A Summer in Rivendell
by LadyLindariel
Summary: It's summer in Imladris, and the twins are coming into their adolescent years. Which means they are moving up in their training and life. But with maturing comes other hard things and many difficult choices. But the key to maturity is making the mature choices. The two find out what it's really like to becoming warriors, making friends, and making enemies.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This first chapter was written by the amazing Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and the second will be written by me.

 **Disclaimer:** We do not own any of the characters except for our OC's. You may recognize her OC Faegon from her story  Beneath the Storm and my OC Faron from my story The Breaking. We hope you enjoy

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Golden light sifted gently through the stately trees of Rivendell, reflecting gracefully onto the valley of Imladris causing it to glow. The only people awake were the warriors who trained in the field, leaving the rest of the Valley to awaken. It was the end of spring, and logically, all soldiers were eager to pass their exams which would take place that afternoon. Then, afterward, when all the new advancing warriors were chosen, summer would start a new training season.

The elves who didn't move up would have the summer off and would start back up in the fall. However, it was probably for the best, as this training season would be a much harder one, only because almost all of the elves would be advancing that year, as careful study showed, so Glorfindel thought it would be fair to increase the work – a lot. And as a result, new trainers and helpers were also to be summoned. Overall, today would be a busy day.

In the House of Elrond, Lord Glorfindel walked slowly down the hall from his room, busily thumbing through a sheaf of papers. It was very early in the morning, a little after sunrise, and he just finished the very last training session of the year. This afternoon, he and his second in command, Captain Faron would be overseeing the final assessments. Then, a week later, the fun would begin, but for now, he just wanted to relax with breakfast.

The elven lord continued across the dining pavilion, attention fixed on the reports he held. As he looked at the pages, he realized with some shock; the smaller elflings had taken their assessments only yesterday. How had he forgotten that? Why had he not been present? An annoyed glare flitted across his face as he approached the table. He had missed a complete assessment! What was he even doing at the time? The Gondolin elf's mind wandered back to yesterday afternoon, searching his memory. Suddenly, he scowled. He had been stuck in a meeting, and he hadn't even realized it. Glorfindel wanted to slap himself.

As it was, he guessed Faron had overseen it in his stead. He trusted the warrior greatly and knew he'd bring him an accurate report, but he still wanted to slap himself. He'd never done that before, never had a training session slipped his mind, not even way back in the time of Gondolin.

"Ah, Glorfindel, you're here." A voice pulled him out of his angry thoughts, and he noticeably flinched, blinking rapidly. Elrond was at the edge of the table, an eyebrow raised in his direction. Seated beside him, Celebrían looked up with a smile, apparently having seen his distracted reaction.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked him as he sat down across from Lord Elrond. Glorfindel smiled dismissively and set the reports on the floor beside him, easing himself down into the wooden chair. Beside him, the twins practically jumped out of their seats with cheers.

"Ada, Glorfy's here-"

"Can we eat now-?"

"I'm starving!" The two rapidly finished each other's sentences, looking from their father, to Glorfindel. Elrond smiled warmly at them and nodded. The two had an uncanny tendency to know what the other was going to say, and usually ended up either interrupting each other or finishing the others thoughts.

"Yes, you may." The half-elf replied, nodding to the servants. Immediately, as if coming out of the shadows, a group of cooks swarmed the table with plates. Elladan, the older of the two, immediately dived for the bread, grabbing a piece before Elrond could even blink. Celebrían glared at her son and cleared her throat meaningfully, causing the older twin to freeze, looking guiltily up to her.

"Sorry," he muttered, putting the roll back and seating himself firmly in his chair. "Please pass the bread." Celebrían raised both her eyebrows and tilted her head in approval, lifting the platter of warm, crusty rolls and giving it to her son.

"So Elladan and Elrohir tell me they took their assessments yesterday," Elrond said conversationally, dishing himself some fruit and eggs. Elrohir perked up at that and grinned, jumping up and down in his chair.

"Far'n says 'm gettin' 'etter at arche'y!" the younger brother exclaimed through a mouthful of honey soaked bread. Celebrían rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, putting down her fork in exasperation.

"Sweetie, we do not talk with our mouths full at the table," she chided gently, pinning her son with a stare. It wasn't an angry stare, but it wasn't a happy stare either. It was the stare of a mother, a disapproving one at that. Elrohir turned red with shame and shrunk back into his chair, muttering an apology. Elrond hid a grin.

"Yes, they did," Glorfindel continued, peeling a boiled egg. As he pulled off the shell, it tore off some of the white with it, causing the whole thing to fall apart. Glorfindel glared, letting it fall uselessly on his plate.

"And how did they do?" Celebrían asked eagerly, having heard no word of them. Elrond would have told her, but as he knew nothing of the matter, he couldn't. It stood to the fact both he and Glorfindel were cursed to be at that meeting yesterday. At her words, the golden-haired ellon looked up from the slaughtered egg, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know..." He looked over at his reports and thought for a second, "Faron should be bringing me a full report on all the students by this afternoon before the rest of the warriors have their exams." He already knew they did well, as he had been watching their progress for a while. But he didn't have any specifics. Elrond nodded reasonably and stabbed a grape with his fork, holding the utensil carelessly in one hand. Celebrían smiled brightly, laughing musically.

"I'm sure they did very well," their mother said easily, having full confidence in her two sons. She wasn't a warrior by any means, but she did know the makings of one when she saw them. She had been alive long enough to know. However, as was natural for all mothers, she still had a small nagging fear. It probably meant nothing, and she hoped it didn't, but the elleth was still anxious. The Lady wasn't necessarily concerned about how they did in their exams, but rather for something else. If they did indeed pass them, which she was sure of, they had a hard summer in front of them. Glorfindel may have taken

it easy on them this season, but once they graduated to the next level, all mercy would be gone. Not to mention, the two would be going into an almost entirely unfamiliar environment.

There would be new trainers, new skills, and not to mention all the new kids – some bullies, as she knew very well. Celebrían had seen the summer training before, and the one thing she always noticed, was how competitive it was. Almost dangerously so. Elladan and Elrohir were okay with competitive things; they did it all the time. But she couldn't help the nagging fear; this year would be different somehow. She didn't know why she felt that way, as again, she couldn't have had more confidence in her boys. But the fact was, she did. And she didn't know how right she was.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

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Breakfast was long gone, and Glorfindel was in his office awaiting the final reports of who was moving up in training when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in Faron, I was expecting you," he replied when he realized who it was.

Faron walked into the room and proceeded to sit down in Glorfindel's favorite chair. Glorfindel scoffed, but it was all in jest. Faron was the only one other than Lord Elrond who was allowed to sit in his oversized lounge chair. "So, Glorfindel, how is your day so far?" he asked as he put his dirty feet up on the table.

Glorfindel eyed his second in command. "It is going alright, and would you kindly get your dirty feet off my table! You are getting dirt all over it, and I eat off there," Glorfindel said smacking Faron's feet with a rolled up piece parchment. "So, have you brought me the roster yet of who has graduated to the next level? I need to get everything ready for training next week."

"Yes, I did, they are right here," Faron said handing Glorfindel the roster, "and I think you will be pleased to know Elladan and Elrohir have made it to the next level. They are very fast learners and gifted. I have noticed Elladan is superb with the sword and his brother is quite the archer."

Glorfindel grinned at the news. This would make Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían very proud indeed. "Let me see those," he said grabbing the papers from Faron and looking at them. As he eyed the roster sure enough on the top of the list was Elladan and Elrohir; however, his face soon fell when he noticed another name on the list right under Elrohir's: Faegon's.

"What is it? You don't seem too happy." Faron knew it couldn't be because of the twins. They both were hoping they would move on up.

"No, I am not. Worried is more like it. Faegon is also on here."

"Well, yes, it was bound to happen. He is one of the best students." Then Faron realized why Glorfindel was worried. Faegon was a bully to the hilt, especially when it came to Elladan. For whatever reason, those two just did not like each other, and it was not for lack of trying on Elladan's part. "Oh, I see now. Faegon and Elladan. Well, maybe we will luck out, and they will not notice one another."

"Don't hold your breath, Faron. We both know better than anyone how competitive training is and everyone will be trying to outdo each other. We also know for whatever reason, Faegon is jealous of Elladan and he will stop at nothing to keep from besting him at everything. We are just going to have to try and keep them apart as much as we can." Glorfindel sighed grabbing the bridge of his nose. His day had been going so well, and now because of a simple name, it had gone downhill fast.

"What are you going to do?" He got up and walked with Glorfindel to the door.

"I am going to go and inform Lord Elrond and the others that Elladan and Elrohir are starting training next week and that, unfortunately, means telling them about Faegon."

"Do you want me to come with you? You know for moral support," Faron asked, but deep inside he was hoping Glorfindel would say no. He had no desire to be there when Elladan found out his mortal enemy was also going to be training with him. Things could get real ugly fast.

"No, Faron but thanks anyway. Why don't you go and inform the rest of the students who have graduated to the next level including Faegon, but don't tell Faegon he will be working with Elladan. Not yet. No need to start a war before training has begun."

Faron sighed with relief and then left to go inform the others leaving Glorfindel to tackle the impossible task of telling Elrond and his family. "Good luck, my friend – I mean it."

A few minutes later, Glorfindel arrived at Elrond's family quarters and knocked on the door. How was he going to break the news? He knew he had to tell them but how and how would he do it so Elladan wouldn't go and strangle Faegon to escape working with him? As he was pondering these thoughts, Celebrían opened the door.

"Glorfindel, how are you? Please come in."

"Thank you, my lady," he answered walking into the room. "I have come to tell you and your husband the results of your sons' assessment. Are they here?"

"Yes, they are in the next room. Please come, and you can tell us."

As they entered the room, Elrond and the twins' stopped talking. They were apparently in the middle of a conversation when he arrived. "Should I come back later?"

"Oh, no Glorfindel we were just talking about the assessment and whether or not my sons' have moved up. I take it you have the results?" Elrond replied.

"Yes, I do. I thought I should be the ones to tell you first hand Elladan and Elrohir have indeed passed their assessment and will be moving up in training which starts next week."

When Glorfindel announced the good news both parents hugged their children and Elladan and Elrohir whooped and hollered with excitement, but when they saw Glorfindel didn't seem happy they knew there was more to it than he was telling. "What is it Glorfindel?" Elrond asked.

"Well, I also have some bad news as well. It appears Elladan and Elrohir are not the only gifted students to make it. Faegon also has made the list as well."

Elladan looked as if he was going to be sick. Elrond and Celebrían paled at the news. Elrohir was helping his brother to sit. Everyone knew just how much Elladan and Faegon disliked each other and the fact they would be training with one another was not good at all. "Are you serious?" Elladan finally asked. "There has to be a mistake."

"I am afraid not Elladan, but I know you are more mature than Faegon and will do everything you can to avoid confrontation and if Faegon steps out of line I will personally see to it he is appropriately disciplined. Please Elladan, just keep your focus on training and let me handle Faegon."

Elladan reluctantly agreed. This was very important to him, and he knew how much it meant to his family as well, and he was not about to let Faegon ruin everything for him. "Does he know yet?"

"No, Faron is telling him he advanced, but he will not tell him about you. I will inform him the day of training as to avoid any unnecessary confrontation between you two. I only told you as I know you have tried to befriend him and I know you will be the more mature out of the two."

Elrond and Celebrían just eyed one another. As Lord of Rivendell, he could not play favorites even when he knew his son was facing a summer of training with an arch rival such as Faegon. He had to remain neutral; however, he would try and lend as much emotional support as he could to his son as Elrond knew he would need it. Celebrían on the other hand now knew what that nagging fear was she had earlier: it was Faegon. Well Lord Elrond might not be able to get involved, but that didn't mean she couldn't. Just let Faegon try and hurt her son, and he would learn real fast why you didn't mess with the Lord and the Lady of the Goldenwood's daughter!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

 **Disclaimer:** We do not own any of the characters except for our OC's. You may recognize her OC Faegon from her story  Beneath the Storm and my OC Faron from my story The Breaking. We hope you enjoy

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Later that day in the adjoined rooms the two brothers shared, Elladan lay sprawled miserably out on his bed, dark head hanging off the edge of the mattress. Gray eyes unfocused, he stared blankly up at the white ceiling. There was no way this day could get worse. The older twin's eyes held resentment and exasperation, and he sighed heavily, attracting his twin's attention. In a chair, on the other side of the room, Elrohir sat up straight, leaning casually against the back of his seat while he thumbed through the pages of a book.

"Elladan, it's not that bad," his little brother said firmly. Elrohir placed his book on the desk beside him and looked up at his older brother, rightfully concerned. After hearing the news, Elladan had been a complete mess. He barely left his room, and all previous excitement from earlier this morning was gone. So, the rest of the day was quite solemn, and Elrohir was tired of it. He was tired of their previous conversations coming to mean nothing; he was tired of not being able to express his enthusiasm about moving up. So, he was determined to change that.

"It's easy for you to say Elrohir, you don't have to deal with _him_ ," the older half-elf muttered miserably, another large sigh emitting from his lungs. One arm went to his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing. Still unconvinced, Elrohir raised an eyebrow, a frown forming on his face.

"Both Glorfindel and Captain Faron have agreed to keep him in line, and as long as you don't pick a fight, you have nothing to worry about."

"I... guess so... but I'm not worried about him saying something to me, at least, not that much." He knew he could at least try to deal with verbal jibes, and he was getting fairly good at retorting without sarcasm. But over the years, Faegon had learned too. The young brown haired ellon was a bright fellow, very smart, and very talented. So, when the two met each other in the past, there had been immediate war. Not just because both ellyn were naturally competitive, and not only because they were both very capable warriors, but because both had pride. And Faegon, unlike Elladan, had more than a small problem with his self-worth being messed with.

So, as the two were practically the same age – Faegon being slightly older – and as the two crossed paths quite often, the young warrior had developed a more than annoying habit of trying to get under Elladan's skin. The oldest son of Elrond could never quite guess what he did wrong, or what he did to offend the other, but for some reason, Faegon hated him – a lot. So, as the older half-elf had grown slightly immune to the occasional verbal taunt –though he had to admit, they still bothered him – Faegon had developed new, subtle ways to bully the other. Mostly consisting of glares, poisonous looks, and the every-so-often, physical attack. Again, he found very subtle ways to do it, and he never got caught. At least not in the act.

Whether it was making Elladan feel smaller than a bug by looks and comments, or even tripping him or shoving him in the hall, he always succeeded. And very rarely did it not end with a one-on-one brawl between the two. However, Faegon was not always the one to cause the fights, though most of the time he did, and Elrohir knew that. Elladan had a relatively big reputation for creating them himself.

Across the room, his younger brother nodded silently, considering this for a moment. "Well, try to ignore him. That's what I would do." That comment made Elladan groan in exasperation, turning over just to bury his face in a pillow.

"Do you know how hard it is to do that? That's like asking me to stop bothering ada about getting a real sword," he groaned resentfully, voice muffled by the large pillow. His little brother quirked an eyebrow at him, an attempt to look like their father. It didn't work.

"Well... I don't think there's much more you can do, at least not that I know of." But before their conversation could continue, there was a knock at the door.

Elladan pushed himself up onto his elbows, his face leaving the depths of the pillows and he glanced questioningly at Elrohir. But his brother seemed just as confused and offered no answers. "Come in." Almost before his reply, the door was slowly pushed open, a pale face peeking in. Immediately, Celebrían stepped in a small smile on her face. Their father was just behind her, though the door blocked their view of the two.

"Hello," she greeted softly, "can we come in?" The Lady didn't wait for an invitation. Across the room, Elrohir was now standing, a grin lighting his face.

"Nana!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, running to engulf his mother in a big hug. Though, as he only came up to her waist, it could have been bigger. Celebrían laughed merrily and hugged him back, watching fondly as he went to greet his father. But when Elrohir came face to face with Elrond, he froze, gray eyes growing wide. For in front of him, the elf lord was holding two long parcels, wrapped delicately with an oiled cloth. He hadn't noticed them before and was rather shocked. This also made Elladan sit up, pushing himself into a sitting position while swinging his short legs over the side of the bed. Immediately he was standing.

"Ada?" the adolescent asked, raising both eyebrows. Beside her husband, Celebrían couldn't help a small smile. Though she wasn't exactly a warrior, she understood well what this kind of gift meant to one. Elrond wasted no time and handed one of the large parcels to Elladan, giving the other to Elrohir. The twins held them in shock, not exactly sure what to do with them, and slightly afraid. They were heavy, rather heavier than they looked, weighing down their arms. Standing above them, Elrond smiled and crouched down, resting his arms on his knees.

"I had these forged a week ago–"

"You mean?" Elladan asked, unconsciously interrupting his father. But he wasn't able to finish his sentence, shock overcoming his planned words. Elrond nodded in confirmation, grinning at his sons.

"Now, you weren't supposed to receive these until next season. However, your mother and I decided we should give them to you now." The elf Lord didn't have to say much more, watching closely as his sons carefully unwrapped their gifts, the peeled backcloth revealing what was underneath. Both gasped simultaneously; gray eyes fixed on the objects they held. With shining, black sheaths were embedded with small rubies; they held two, small training swords. They were the next level up from a wooden sword, meant for when the elflings' trained with their first real weapons. Of course, they were blunted, to the point where they were virtually harmless. But that didn't mean the twins loved them any less.

Elrohir looked up from his first, pure shock still radiating from his entire being. He glanced from one parent to the other, not sure what to do now. He had just been given a gift he knew he wasn't supposed to receive. Yet, no words would come, his feet wouldn't move. Only a moment later did Elladan glanced up to stare at his parents, not sure he understood the gesture. Just like Elrohir, he knew just as well these weapons were meant for more experienced elves, not young elflings' like themselves.

"Ada, Glorfindel won't let us train with these," the older twin murmured, voice almost a whisper. His eyes traveled back down to the silver blade – his sword. His very first real weapon. It was beautiful, as far as he could tell with his limited knowledge. At his words, Elrond nodded reasonably, already apparently aware of the fact.

"Yes, that is true. But I did not bring these to you so you could train with them now." He slowly stood, not bothering to take the small swords back. His sons deserved to be able to process the instruments in their hands. Brows furrowing, the twins looked up at him, their faces obviously holding many questions. Elladan looked as if he was going to say something, but Elrond gently interrupted him.

"I want to make a deal with you."

"A deal?" Elladan asked, taking the words right out of his twin's mouth. Elrond nodded to them, confirming their thoughts. This needed to happen, and it needed to happen now. The older Peredhel looked over to their mother, searching desperately for more of an explanation. Something he knew his mother could provide. However, Celebrían only gestured towards Elrond, raising her delicate eyebrows at them in reassurance. Now across the room, the Lord of Imladris gracefully sat on Elladan's bed and beckoned the two over. So not understanding what was exactly going on here, they slowly came, confused as to what their father meant, or why he wanted to make a deal. The two scrambled up onto the bed, each taking a place beside their father, swords still held tightly in their little grasps. Celebrían, watching fondly from the doorway, also approached the bed, soundlessly sitting down near the headboard.

"This year is a big one for the both of you." Elrond began slowly, his planned speech threatening to leave his memory. But he pressed on. "And your mother and I want to make a deal, a promise." Both boys, now realizing this was a relatively important situation, nodded seriously.

"First of all, these swords are not toys; they're tools. And when they are officially given to you by Glorfindel and Captain Faron at the end of the summer, you have to promise me you'll use them responsibly." Both Elladan and Elrohir nodded solemnly in agreement, sensing there was more to this talk than weapon safety. "We're showing you these now because these swords are a promise. For you will only get them if you pass your assessments at the end of this season. But whether you do or not, whether you make it through this year, or you don't, your mother and I will always be proud. We will always love you."

Elrond knew this season well, and he knew exactly how hard it was going to be, even for the youngest recruits. It was no mere child's play, and the summer training was increasingly hard to get excepted into, there being so many requirements and tests. The twins tried to get into it last year but had not met the requirements. So, this year was different. For the soldiers and the trainers. Glorfindel wanted the warriors whipped into shape, and he was going to do it well. He wasn't one for showing mercy during training unless you were hurt. It was all blood, sweat, and tears. Sometimes mostly tears.

And with Faegon placed on top of all that, not only did Elladan have a hard year coming, but so did Elrohir. The younger twin occasionally received taunts from bullies, though not as bad as Elladan. The problem was, with the two looking so alike, they would always be mistaken for each other. And Elrohir would become a target too. The odd thing was when Faegon did pick fights, he never usually picked them with Elrohir. It was always Elladan, almost as if he knew who was who. And as that shouldn't be a big deal, it was still odd. As for keeping the two apart, it wasn't that they couldn't handle it, they just didn't want to do it by force. Elrond already talked with the others parents, and they were going to try their best.

They talked about separating the two from that group, but Glorfindel had notified them that if they did, he would have to change the whole schedule and have Erestor redo all the rosters, not to mention reassign all the other elves to different places to fill the gap. And with only less than a week to do that, it didn't look like it was going to happen. So, in the end, it was really up to whether to two would be mature or not, whether they'd be able to put aside their differences. Because even the smallest of jibes could hurt worse than a stab to the heart. So, with these thoughts, Elrond continued.

"However," he looked Elladan directly in the eyes, meaning this to be for him. "They are also a promise you will try to make the right choices to the best of your ability. Which includes what you say and what you do. This year will be competitive, more so than you've ever seen. And with competition, comes getting hurt. That is the last thing we want for you. So, this promise is important, and I don't want you to make it if you think you can't keep it." Elladan and Elrohir traded a small glance of consideration, almost as if they communicated through their eyes. Finally, Elrohir broke the eye contact and gave a small smile, nodding in agreement.

"Elladan?" Elrond asked gently, wrapping his arm around his son's small shoulders and squeezing gently. He knew he was asking a lot of them, but he also knew they could handle it. They were his sons, and he had full confidence – and he loved them. "We love you no matter what, and we just want what's best. You only have to try." The older twin seemed to consider this for a moment; gray eyes fixed on the floor. He knew he wanted to try; he wanted to try for his parents – to make them proud. But would he be able to be that nice to Faegon? Would he be able to hold back an ugly retort? A punch? He wasn't sure. But he could try. The young half-elf looked up from scrutinizing his feet, brow furrowed in commitment. He nodded firmly, sighing.

"I will try."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** This chapter was written by yours truly. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

You may recognize Faegon from Beneath the Storm and my OC Faron from my story The Breaking. We hope you enjoy

* * *

Elrond smiled, and Celebrían kissed Elladan's forehead. "I'm glad to hear you will try son, that is all we want. Now, why don't you two put your swords up somewhere where you both will be able to see them and remember your promise. Dinner will be ready in a few hours," Elrond said turning to leave.

The twins nodded and when their parents left Elladan plopped back on his bed. "How am I supposed to keep my promise now? Faegon will be sure to push me until I snap back at him."

Elrohir sighed and shrugged. "I don't know but you better really try, or you won't be receiving that sword. I suggest every time you feel the urge to retort or to punch Faegon just envision the sword and what nana and ada said. Hopefully, that will give you the encouragement you need." Elrohir then took his sword and hung it above his bed on his shelf then stood back and smiled. "I cannot believe ada had these made for us and is allowing us to have them now."

Elladan attempted a smile and then hung his sword up above his bed as well. "I suppose you're right Elrohir. Well, I am going to go for a walk to clear my mind. I'll be back in time for dinner."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Elrohir wasn't sure it was a good idea for his brother to go by himself in his state of mind.

"No, that is alright. I'll be fine." Elladan then turned and went to take a walk around the training grounds as that usually calmed his mind when he was upset.

"Okay, be careful." As he watched his brother leave he couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling. He just hoped it was him being paranoid.

Elladan approached the training grounds his foot ever so often kicking a loose rock. "Just wonderful. I finally get onto the advanced training roster, and I would have to be on the same team as Faegon. And to make matters worse the first training sword I receive I can't even get unless I behave and pass this season without incident. I swear this day couldn't get any worse."

Taking the nearest seat, Elladan sat on it staring off into the horizon his gray eyes watching the different colors of the sky as the sun began to set. He smiled. This always seemed to make him feel more at ease.

Just then he heard the soft footsteps of someone approaching and turned to see his friend and soon to be mentor Glorfindel standing behind him. "Lord Glorfindel. How long have you been here?" He hoped he didn't hear him earlier; Elladan didn't need Glorfindel thinking he couldn't handle this training season.

"Long enough young one." Glorfindel sat next to him, his blue eyes full of concern and empathy. "I heard your father gave you and your brother your training swords already. How do you like them?"

Sighing, Elladan looked back at the sky. "I love it. I was not expecting to receive it so early."

Glorfindel chuckled. "Nor did I. However, your father and mother think it will be a real encouragement to help you stay focused on your goal, which is to pass this summer." He paused for a moment thinking very hard about how to approach this topic. He knew the subject of Faegon was a touchy subject and didn't want to aggravate Elladan anymore. "Elladan, I know this season will be harder on you than anyone else. I wish there were another way around Faegon, but since training starts, in a few days, my hands are tied. The best advice I can give you right now is just to keep your mind on the training at hand and to ignore Faegon. I know it is asking a lot of you, but if anyone can do it, it is you. You have more strength in you than you realize.

Elladan frowned and turned to face Glorfindel. "I can ignore him while on the training grounds but it's off that has me worried. Faegon loves to provoke me when no one is around, and he finds subtle ways to goad me. I try to ignore, but then it just makes him work even harder until I snap."

Glorfindel nodded. He knew how devious Faegon could be. "I understand. Well, my only suggestion would be just to keep ignoring him and keep your mind on something you are working for which is passing the summer training and receiving your sword at the end of training."

Elladan looked at Glorfindel with a perfect raised eyebrow making Glorfindel laugh. "Yes, I am aware of the promise your father made with you and your brother. I was in on this as well. Anyway, know that your family and I are here to support you and as long as you don't start anything or give in to his jibes you have nothing to worry about. However, if he resorts to physical attacks, as long as you don't start it, you will not be held accountable for fighting back as long as it warrants it."

Elladan nodded slowly as he took all this in. "I understand Glorfindel."

"Good. Now, cheer up. This is supposed to be a happy day. Don't worry about it until something happens. And remember, Faron and I will be keeping our eyes on Faegon to make sure he does not step out of line. Now, I suggest you head back to the house as dinner will be starting quickly. I have to go finish up my roster for the first day of training."

"Alright, and thank you Glorfindel."

Glorfindel smiled and stood up. "You are welcome Elladan. I will see you at dinner." Glorfindel walked back towards his office to complete his paperwork leaving Elladan alone.

Exhaling, Elladan turned and walked back towards the dining halls. He knew his mother and father would be upset if he were late for dinner. When Elladan was out of sight, coming out from behind the bushes with an evil grin was Faegon.

"So, Elladan and I are on the same roster, and he can't fight, or he won't get his sword? Well, am I going to have some fun with him or what. Look out Elladan because daddy will not be here to bail you out this time." With a laugh, Faegon made his way back home to plot what he would do this summer to Elladan. "This is going to be one fun summer."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

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"Dan! Wake up!" Elrohir said, frowning skeptically while glaring imploringly down at the still form below him. This just wasn't going to work. He had tried everything! At least everything that was in his capabilities at the moment. His recent attempt at waking his older brother had fallen utterly short of what was expected, and now he was clueless. What more could he try? What more could he do? The constant trial and error were honestly starting to annoy him, and it was starting to frustrate him as well. Especially since he was trying so hard and with all his heart. But nothing seemed to work. Nothing appeared to break the unassailable wall of sleep guarding his brother right now. Why wouldn't Elladan get up? Why would he not acknowledge his presence?

He had shaken him and received no reaction. He had yelled at him, and there was nothing but a slight wince. After that, he had no choice but to rip the blankets away – which even he thought was an utterly cruel thing to do to a sleeping person – but all Elladan did was snuggle deeper into the mattress. It was increasingly irritating. After a moment of deep consideration, he even threatened to pour ice-cold water on him. And yet it didn't seem to be affecting him at all. Granted he did stir but never once did he open his eyes. Never once had he shown any acknowledgment for the outside world. Should he have poured freezing liquid on him? Should he have run down to the kitchens for a small glass of ice water? Elrohir thought about it; he truly did, his mischievous mind playing out the hilarious scene that was sure to occur. But as the soon-to-be warrior thought it through, the consequences didn't seem worth the risk, at least not today.

It was early in the morning, earlier than when the twins usually awoke. And it was not the time to be up and about or to be yelling or shouting. For most everyone, one in the House of Elrond – young and old – were still snuggled up in their blankets, eyes, and bodies tired with sleep. Their minds instinctively awaited the morning sun to awaken them, to let them know it was time to arise, to touch their sleep clouded faces with tendrils of yellow luster, and shadow the room in dim light. But that was not for another hour, maybe even more. So, all the house was quiet.

Outside, far across the valley, hidden behind the thick, green boughs of the trees, the sun's golden rays were just beginning to show. They peered stealthily over the horizon, like an assassin watching for the right time to strike. Like a cat stalking its prey. Slowly, they began to touch the sky with red and purple fingers, growing and spreading till the darkness around it began to recede. Its powerful light crept in through windows and doors, wedging itself in between drapes and shades, and shedding small beams on the blankets and floors, though not yet bright enough to be noticed. So, the room was dim, fairly so, the younger twin barely able to see the shadowed silhouettes around him. Their parents wouldn't even be up yet. They would even now be asleep, resting in their warm beds. In fact, the only person he knew to be up at this hour, was Glorfindel.

He could hear the early morning training sessions from his room, the sounds of metal on metal, the sounds of hollered commands, and distant shouting. It wasn't exactly foreign, as early practices went on all the time. But this morning, it was different. The usually natural sounds were somehow changed to what they used to be. Not vague or wistful, but loud and joyful, like wedding bells, or a coronation song. It filled his entire being with excitement, eagerness, joy, and even nervousness. Today, was the big day. The first official day of summer training. The day would prepare them for the hard weeks ahead. At the thought, he sighed loudly, the sound shaking with a mix of enthusiasm and frustration. What would he have to do to get Elladan up? His twin seemed to be sleeping like a rock.

Biting down on his lip in thought, he silently placed his hands on Elladan's shoulder, violently shaking him. It was noticeably harder than last time. "El!" he hissed loudly, rattling his twin back and forth. This time, being rudely driven from his deep sleep, Elladan groaned, the words came out of his mouth incoherent.

"Dan! Wake up!"

"Wh– What?" Elladan mumbled groggily, his right hand sluggishly pushing a layer of black hair from his face. Gray eyes focused blearily, still decidedly glazed over with sleep. In confusion, he looked at his little brother, evidently unaware if this was real, or a dream. Quickly realizing the latter, Elladan glanced around, as if to confirm his thoughts. Yes, this was real, no matter how foggy it was. The older twin then paused in thought, seeming to freeze and never broke eye contact with his little brother. Then, out of nowhere, he yawned, resentfully pushing himself onto his elbows and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It's today! Summer training! Can you believe it?" Elrohir asked his twin excitedly, jumping up and down with enthusiasm. His actions caused the bed to shake and with it Elladan. Elladan, still considerably groggy, only nodded wordlessly, not appearing to have processed this new information. He took a moment to think, eyes threatening to glaze over again. But Elrohir wouldn't let him. There was no way he was going through that again.

The younger twin hurriedly grabbed Elladan's wrist and pulled, using all his strength to force Elladan up. After a moment of pulling hard, the sleepy twin began to slide, slowly inching to the edge of the mattress – though it wasn't on his accord – He was too tired even to accept the fact he was nearing the end of the line. That he was tipping over the edge. So, with one last heartfelt pull, Elrohir felt himself lurch forward, violently staggering to his knees and falling with a thud. Behind him, he heard a crash, followed by a pained, "Oomph!"

"RO!"

Elrohir winced.

Glorfindel idly glanced down at the roster with a small, thoughtful frown, silently contemplating the long, detailed list. It held the names of every student in the class, and their skill sets, times of classes, and other vital information. But as he scanned the document, something seemed off. He didn't know why. But he just didn't feel satisfied with it. The Balrog Slayer's gaze traveled to look up at the small group of children, standing in front of him in a relatively small blob. Nervousness written on their faces, and anticipation in their stance. They had no idea what the first day was going to be like and had no clue what they were in for.

In the beginning, it was meant to be a surprise, even if it was unpleasant, hard, and exhausting. But, now that he saw them, he knew the original plans would have to change. At first, they were going to start by examining the rules and regulations, and then go through the core drills. It wasn't how he usually started classes, but he thought it would be a fair idea. Plus, he didn't fancy being predictable. After that, he planned to test their skills in archery, and see where they were. Just to make sure he knew where their strengths and weaknesses were. The Gondolin elf already knew most of them, but with the next few months coming up, he knew he should test them again. Just to be safe.

However, now, a new plan was slowly forming in his mind. A better one. Something that would indeed start this season off with a bang. The elfling's were far too tense for his taste, and that wasn't healthy. Not today. He couldn't have that on the first day, as it would limit their ability to try their best, and think straight. So, shifting lightly on his heels, Glorfindel turned to the side, facing his second in command.

"Captain Faron?" he asked idly, folding up the roster and tucking it into his belt. Glancing up from his own, carefully planned schedule, the dark-haired elf's eyes widened, obviously having been engrossed in the contents of the paper. As he had been observing, he had a very busy schedule, having to take over three classes as a substitute. Glorfindel and another trainer would be away that week, and he was one of the only other qualified teachers available. So, at the moment, he wasn't quite sure how he'd get everything done.

"Yes?"

"Separate them into two groups, and then let them pick leaders." If they did it this way and did it correctly, he would be able to see where the natural leaders lie. The best way to do that was obvious – a game. Something interactive, energetic, but by no means easy. Something hard and complicated, something to get their blood pumping. However, before the fun could begin, they had to know he meant business. They had to realize there was no slacking off in his class, no fooling around, and no excuses. And this seemed the perfect way to do it. Faron, listening intently, nodded and turned around, a small smile lining his face.

He covered the distance between them easily, separating the tiny elves as evenly as possible. It was an odd number, so at the request of some rather outspoken children, he was asked to reorganize them, which took longer than necessary. This time, the team that came up short was supplied with one of the more athletic team members, which coincidentally, was Elladan. After a moment of further contemplation, Elrohir ended up on the opposite team, acting as a balance in the numbers. Not to mention, it was decided – and agreed – they would be separated for a few classes. Only because, both Glorfindel and Elrond were curious to see how they operated without each other on the first day.

As the Balrog Slayer looked on, he found it was rather amusing to see the small beings shuffling awkwardly, bumping into each other, trying to blindly do what Faron was telling them, without really knowing why. However, he was impressed at how they obeyed, even after not receiving a word of explanation. They were either incredibly patient or scared out of their minds. It wouldn't be long before the poor captain became bombarded with questions, a lot of them impossible to answer. It was just something that was expected, especially when they became comfortable.

Once the rather large group was divided, the dark-haired captain explained, well, as much as he could. He knew nothing of what the Gondolin elf was planning. He assumed it differed from the roster, but he couldn't be sure. And it annoyed him in the slightest, not much, but enough to make him wonder. Still having not moved from his spot, Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest, watching closely as the children began to pick and choose team captains. Once that was done, he simply had to give the order. This would be fun, especially for him.

A moment passed, and Faron turned expectantly back to Glorfindel, raising a dark eyebrow. Clapping once, the golden-haired elf sauntered over, almost a skipping motion. He was obviously pleased with himself. That didn't bode well for the recruits. But when he reached them, his face fell in the slightest. The team captains stood at the head of the group – and though he shouldn't have been surprised, he was – patiently awaiting orders.

"Ah, Elladan... and Faegon," he greeted slowly, heaving a small, long sigh. But, before any dissatisfaction could show on his face, the grin was back, though slightly strained. He knew he shouldn't feel this deflated, or disappointed, or as confused as he did. But for some reason, he couldn't help it, and he wasn't sure why. Elladan was a natural leader – Elrohir too – he already knew that, and so was Faegon.

The two were skillful elfling's and had an outspokenness that was mind boggling for their age. He had seen them take charge of small teams in the past when they were first learning. The two didn't know each other that well at the time, but it was evident they had a habit of clashing. He saw it from the start, and he was aware that today would only prove that theory correct.

So, as it was, it was only obvious the two would take their places as captains. As leaders of their teams. They were both competitive, ambitious, and overachievers. They both tried to do things which were over their capabilities; they sought to impress their peers, and even tried to outdo each other. It was natural for young elves. They were that way by nature. And that could be bad, or that could be good. He guessed it depended on how the two went about their day.

So, as he thought carefully about it, he knew there was no way they could have avoided this. There was no way to get rid of the situation. Not without showing favoritism, or being unfair. It wasn't like he could demote him from his position as leader. If he did that, he would also have to do it to Elladan, and that would take away the whole purpose of letting the group choose who they thought was best.

"Right then. Let's go for a run." He turned away from them and looked up at the sun, shading his eyes as he calculated the time. It was only an hour after noon. They had a whole three hours to kill, which meant a longer run. So, with that thought in mind, he grinned. "Captains, it is your responsibility to get your group across the mile and a half track, and over the river. The first team to reach the opposite end of the bridge together wins."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. I wrote this chapter. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

I would also like to thank my co-author for helping me with the weapons part and for beta reading this chapter to make sure I got everything correct. You are a saint!

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The sun was beating hard by the time the two teams had reached the end of the bridge. All the trainees were exhausted as they came to a stop. Some of the students hunched over holding their sides as they gasped for air. Faron and Glorfindel had followed behind to make sure there would not be any trouble between Faegon and Elladan and thankfully nothing happened. Both trainers had begun to hope maybe the two would get along after all, but that was not to be the case.

At the beginning of the race, it looked as if Elladan's team would come out on top, but halfway through it, they began to tire out which gave Faegon's team the advantage. Elladan had pushed his team too hard in the beginning while Faegon had them start out nice and easy which allowed them not to tire. As a result, Faegon's team reached the end of the bridge first. As Elladan was catching his breath and helping to cheer up his team, he heard the unmistakable sound of Faegon snickering as he walked over.

"Slow and royal?" Faegon sneered causing Elladan to tense. He knew what was coming next. An enormous nasty insult and Faegon rubbing it in that he had lost. "I was right; nobles are fat and lazy. What is your mother like? I bet she can't even run a mile without having to sit down."

Silence fell as Faegon finished the last words. No one could believe Faegon had even dared to insult the Lady of Rivendell. Everyone looked at Elrohir and Elladan to see what would happen next. While Elrohir was trying to bite his tongue, Elladan could not hold it back.

"Shut your mouth Faegon! Do not talk about my mother like that ever again!" Elladan retorted with his fists bunched up.

"What are you going to do about it half-elf?"

Elladan started to advance towards Faegon, but at the last minute, he remembered his promise that he made to his father and mother and forced himself to stop. Oh, how he wanted to punch the lights out of Faegon. He knew this would happen and there was not a thing he could do about it!

"Just what I thought. Not only are you slow but you are a coward as well."

Before Elladan could react, they heard an angry voice yell out from among them. "Faegon!" No one needed to look up to know who the voice belonged to. Everyone moved out of the way as a furious golden-haired ellon made his way through the crowd. "Come here at once," he said through gritted teeth.

Faegon's smirk quickly turned from boastful to scared as he slowly made his way towards Glorfindel and stopped just inches away from him. "Yes, captain?" Faegon squeaked.

Glorfindel glared. "So, you think you are all that do you; you like to rub it in others faces huh? Well since you think you are so fast and so much better than your opponents you can run the course again three more times, while everyone else moves on to the next assignment. And you will not leave the training grounds until you have finished. Now MOVE!"

Faegon didn't even say yes, or look at Elladan; he just took off running like a warg with its tail between its legs. Glorfindel then turned on the others. "Okay everyone, now that the race is over we will move onto our next workout."

The rest of the trainees stifled a moan, but Glorfindel cleared his throat, and the elflings stood at attention. "Alright now, the first thing I want you to do is run back to base, and when you are there, you will see in a line a bunch of flour sacks. I want you to lift with your legs the flour sacks and carry them with your backs straight to the end of the field and back. When you have finished, you will proceed to the climbing ropes, and each one of you will climb to the top and back down. When everyone has completed that you will finish the work out with fifty push-ups and one hundred sit-ups. Then we will go from there. Understood?"

The recruits all nodded their understanding wondering how on Arda they would survive this.

"Alright then let's go!" Glorfindel clapped his hands indicating he was finished and the trainees started off. "Faron?"

"Yes, Glorfindel?"

"When they have finished, I want you to go back over the basics of archery and have them demonstrate just to make sure they have not become rusty. I will be keeping an eye on Faegon over here. Afterward, I will go over sword basics and some moves; then we will call it a day."

"You sure are drilling them today," Faron said grinning.

Glorfindel laughed. "Better now than later. At least this way they have an idea of what to expect."

Faron smiled and trotted over to where the elflings were busy lugging heavy flour sacks. He moaned to himself as he remembered his first day at advanced training all those years ago in Gondolin. He had to admit Glorfindel was sure being easier on these guys than he was on him.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel was keeping a very close eye on Faegon to make sure he didn't slack. Whenever he started to slow down, Glorfindel would bark out to pick up his pace, or he'd add on another lap. Periodically he would turn to catch Faron running along the side of a poor, tired elfling encouraging them to keep going. Glorfindel smiled to himself as he watched the determination of these young warriors to be. He knew though that sadly not all of them would pass this year and would have to retake this course. He only hoped Elladan and Elrohir would not be among those. Eventually, Faegon finished the last lap and came huffing up to Glorfindel.

"Perhaps next time you will think twice before you boast and start throwing insults out about other people's mothers. Now you have to go and make up the workout, get going."

Faegon started to make a retort but when he saw the look on Glorfindel's face, he thought better of it and ran off to catch up with his classmates.

Glorfindel had just caught up to Faron as the students finished the last sit-up. Faron saw him, and Glorfindel nodded for him to continue as he mouthed Faegon. Faron nodded his understanding and rounded up the students.

"Okay, let us take a water break and then we will go on to archery."

After a short water break – and they were short – the elfling's reported to the small archery fields, where they would be taught their next lesson. The children were lined up in front of the targets, only a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation. Watching them in slight amusement, Faron stood in front of them holding his bow by his side, a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Then nodding to them, he walked swiftly away from the range of any sharp missiles that might come his way.

"Ready your bows!" he called to them unexpectedly, testing to see if they had remembered the command. It took them a moment, but after a second, the cobwebs in their minds began to clear away. Each archer hesitantly began to hold their bows in front of them, lapsing into a warrior's stance. The positions they were taught repeatedly since they first started training. Memory coming into play, they also unconsciously fixed their postures and positions, spacing themselves out accordingly.

Faron nodded his approval, though he did spot a few problems. Little things younger warriors would miss, things which were crucial. Things that would need to be fixed. And he would fix them. "Nock an arrow to the string," the captain commanded, gray eyes watching them closely. Hearing the command, they scrambled to find their quivers. The elfling's, though not in a very organized fashion, selected missiles from their holsters, and rather clumsily, they notched them. Then, they looked at Faron expectantly.

"Good," he noted dryly, hiding a slight smile. They were so eager to please, and so enthused to show they had what it took to graduate. Only time would prove them correct. "Now, pull the string back, but do not fire. Not until I say so." Immediately, they did as he asked, some even trying to pull it back further than needed. Sighing softly, Faron checked their posture, taking notes. As the captain walked, he pressed a child's elbow down to line up with his chin. "Keep it down; you'll hinder your aim."

Walking to another one, he gently pulled a finger off a string. "You don't need that," he said briefly, moving onto the next one. This child was as tense as a dead deer a day after slaughter, he thought to himself. Raising a dark eyebrow, he gently placed a hand on the elfling's shoulder, causing it to jump, though his hands were tense to release the string. The smaller being looked up at Faron with startled eyes but then relaxed. Who knew what was running through his mind.

"Try to keep a relaxed body. A startled warrior is a dead one." The child's eye widened, but Faron only walked away, seeing as he did all he could. After correcting a few more students, he gestured to the targets.

"Remember to sight down the shaft, and aim carefully." The elfling's stood there for a moment, slowly taking in this information. "Go on, fire."

The elfling's released the arrow's, and they went flying hitting their target dead on. Faron smiled slightly as he took note before moving on. "Very good. Now, remember when you are shooting it is critical that you follow the steps shown today. If you don't, your aim will be off, and that can prove to be your downfall allowing your enemy to gain the upper hand. Remember, in a real battle; there is no room for mistakes."

Faster than any of them could blink, Faron nocked one of his arrows to his bow and pulled the string back to his cheek. Looking down the shaft and picking a target, he took a small breath and released. The arrow zipped through the air and embedded itself into the very center of a target. He then straightened and turned to them. "If I had not aimed correctly, I would never have hit my target. Any questions?"

When none of the students raised their hands, he moved on. "Good, tonight I want you to write me a one-page essay on the steps to proper technique and why it is important to demonstrate each one. They will be due first thing tomorrow morning."

The students groaned but were quickly silenced by Faron. "Now we will move onto the next part of our lesson. I want you to pack up your things and meet Lord Glorfindel over at the fighting grounds."

The students did as they were asked and quickly made their way to where Glorfindel was waiting for them, a sword in his hands. Next to him was Faegon who looked like he was about ready to kill someone. When they had situated themselves, they waited for Glorfindel to continue. After a moment of thought, Glorfindel grinned. "Let us start out with something easy," he offered leaning casually on his sword. Silence hung in the air, only broken when the elfling's began to murmur softly, their tones filled with uncertainty. They knew he didn't mean it – they knew it well – even if they had never been in his classes before. What was easy about the Balrog Slayer's training? Glorfindel brought them back to reality with a shrill whistle, causing the elfling's to jump.

"Listen!" he said rather loudly, though it wasn't harsh. Seeing he had their attention, he swung his sword experimentally, watching the blade carefully. Then, his movement slow and practiced, he mimicked a high blow. The sword was lifted to line up with his cheek, and he brought it down carefully, postured relaxed and knees bent. Glorfindel then straightened and looked at them, hefting his sword in his hand.

"That was what we call a high blow. It helps to get in a more powerful blow, and can be used to deliver a killing strike at the end of the battle," he paused, then looked at them searchingly, "why don't you try it now?" the Gondolin elf suggested, pointing to the group with his sword. They froze, looking around uncertainly as if wondering if he was talking to them.

"Come on now. Posture relaxed, knees bent, and over your toes, elbows tucked in. Let's see it." Slowly, the elfling's shuffled into a line, each uncertainly assuming the position they thought was correct. Then they hesitantly performed the action, trying their hardest to do as told.

As Glorfindel, walked among them, Faron at his side taking notes, he would walk to each student and correct one's posture. "Make sure you are relaxed, not tense." Then he would move on and fix another's position. "Knees bent, and over your toes, elbows tuck in." When he was sure each of them had it down, he then had them sit down.

"We will go over one final move and then call it a day. Now, the next and last move we will go over is known as a wrath blow. To do a wrath blow, you would do it similar as a high blow, except you would change your stance and aim for the ear." Making sure they were still listening, he nodded, then slowly, he performed the action, seeming to go in slow motion as he did so. His sword bared down on an unseen enemy, moving at a sharp, practiced angle. He then stopped, straightening. "Therefore, it provides an easier kill."

He then had the student's stand up and assume the proper position. When he made sure each one was in the correct position, he had them perform the technique over to make sure they knew exactly what they were doing. When he was satisfied, he then had them stop what they were doing. "You all have done an excellent job today. I am proud of how hard you worked. Now for your homework, which will be due at the beginning of the class tomorrow, I want you to write in detail, the two moves I showed you today, and how you would perform each one. Tomorrow, we will also team up in pairs, and you will practice these moves on one another. Class dismissed."

As the students began to leave Glorfindel called out, "Elladan? May I see you for a minute?"

Elladan froze unsure of what to expect. He looked back at his brother who gave him an apologetic look before heading home. Elladan walked over to Glorfindel unable to look him in the eyes.

"Do not worry Elladan; I am not angry at you. Please help me clean up, and we will talk for a minute."

Elladan sighed in relief and walked around helping Glorfindel to clean the field. Faron noticed the two and walked off the field to give the two some privacy.

As Glorfindel put the swords back in their place, he stopped and placed a hand on Elladan's shoulder. "Elladan, I heard what happened earlier today."

Elladan winced as he was reminded of the comment and how he had reacted.

"Now, I am not angry at you because what Faegon said was very low. However, you need to understand by you reacting to him; you have given him more reason to attack you. I know it is very hard not to respond, but you must try with all your might, not to give in to his taunts. Remember your promise you made to your parents. Next time he says something like that, just turn and walk away and go tell either myself or Faron and we will take care of it."

Elladan shook his head in understanding, and the two of them finished cleaning up. When they finished picking up the last of the targets, Glorfindel wiped his hands on his leggings. "Well, I believe that is the last of them. I was very proud of you today Elladan. You performed very well. Better than most first time trainees in this class. You keep this up, and you will be at the top of your class in no time."

Elladan smiled. "Thank you, Glorfindel!"

"Now run off home and get some rest. Remember what I said earlier and this time I will not tell your parents what happened okay?"

Elladan hugged Glorfindel and ran home eager to take a nice hot bath and to get some food in his stomach. Never had he felt so utterly wasted but satisfied as he did now. He could only hope that on his way back he didn't run into Faegon. He knew he was furious and humiliated and when that was a combination that never mixed well with Faegon.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

It had been a mere few minutes since his long talk with Glorfindel. As of now, the young lord was trudging up the large, green hill to his house, looking thoughtfully at the ground before him. Today had been far from what he had expected – very far. Although he had expected some small encounter with Faegon – or at least a few glares – he hadn't anticipated such words from the other. Nothing as foul as what he had heard. Even now, the memory brought bright color to his cheeks, and his steps became rough and angry. At the time, he hadn't seen the significance of anyone interrupting them. At that point, all he had focused on was some sort of retort, some action. Something that would have matched, or exceeded the others comment. But now that he looked back, he was glad, and relieved, Glorfindel had stepped in.

Even he didn't know what would have happened if he had been allowed to do as he pleased – well, he did, and he didn't like the thought of it. Slowly Elladan closed his gray eyes in shame. It was such an immature thing to do, or to even think of. He knew very well what he would have said, and it would have been very cold, and very low. Being filled with such rage, and so infuriated by the mere thought of Faegon, there would have been major repercussions. He would have had no problem saying something he would have regretted, just for the satisfaction of letting the other know how it felt – how it felt to have your feelings crushed, or your heart broken. He would have broken his promise to his parents. Even the thought of it made him flush red with anger, and his fists clenched at his sides. Was he as bad as Faegon? Was there any difference between them? He had made that promise in goodwill, and he had told his father he would be able to keep it. What would have happened if he had broken it? What would he do? Or say?

"And the royal brat returns." A voice broke through the cover of his frantic thoughts, causing Elladan to look up. His dark head snapped in every direction, searching for the voice that spoke. He froze, posture stiffening, and his brow furrowed in confusion. But after a moment, it cleared, realization taking its place. He knew who it was, and a dreading realization sunk in his stomach – Faegon. Biting down on the inside of his cheek in frustration, the dark-haired elfling turned slowly on his heel, coming to face the speaker: there, standing heedlessly under a tree, was Faegon. He rested his back on the bark, and his arms were crossed over his chest, a rather careless position. A rather infuriating one as well. It made Elladan's blood boil. How could he be so relaxed, unfazed after what he pulled on the training ground? How could he be so cold?

"I have nothing to say to you," the older twin replied, hoping against hope his voice remained steady. It seemed so, but he wasn't sure if it was a trick of his mind. He could have been imagining it. If it did break or shudder, Faegon didn't notice, or he simply said nothing of it.

"Nothing to say? After all, you've done for me? I can hardly believe that," Faegon replied sarcastically, rolling his dark eyes at the younger elf. He was only older by a year but believed that gave him some superiority. And in some ways, it did, though Elladan hated to admit it.

"Do you think you can get me in trouble, and get away with it? Simply walk off, and go on your merry way?" He continued heatedly, his tone burning like acid on a fire. Shifting uncertainly, Elladan said nothing, looking from the other elf, then back to his house, which only sat a few yards away. He could run, get away and ignore the others taunts. The elfling immediately dismissed the thought, scowling at it. Run? What kind of answer was that? It was a coward's answer, and he wasn't a coward.

"I didn't get you in trouble."

"Didn't get me in trouble? I don't know if you remember, but I had to run the track three times because of you. And maybe your brains too numb to understand or remember, but no one gets away with that. And well... I am the better fighter. Or did you forget that too? Was it inherited?" Faegon suddenly laughed, as if thinking his joke was funny, shifting casually from his position under the tree. He then smirked at him, an almost knowing expression. It was scary and unsettling. Then, pushing himself off the trunk of the plant, the brown haired elfling stepped out from under its shade, sauntering over. He seemed so nonchalant, so, fearless. Elladan found himself wishing he had such strong resolve. Especially for their age.

"I wonder if you got that from you father? You know, half-elf, part human." Faegon shook his dark head and sighed mockingly, making Elladan flush red with anger. Why was he so calm? Why was he so... snide? It was more than unsettling. The young lord bit down hard on his lip, willing himself not to speak. Forcing himself to keep his thoughts in his mind – the safety of his mind. It was agonizing, and the idea of doing nothing just made it even worse. He increased the pressure of his jaw, instantly tasting the warm, salty flavor of blood, and his mouth burned. It wasn't a pleasant taste, and he almost regretted it, as his lip began to sting from the freshly made wound. However, as long as he didn't say anything he'd regret, he decided he could stomach it. He had to keep his promise.

This was Faegon's way, his signature technique. The chocolate haired elfling was seldom known for violence, as far as he could tell. No, he was more manipulative than that, and an exceptionally good liar. He was known for getting the other person to make the first move and claiming self-defense. Or getting his enemy to take the blame, and it was almost impossible to predict him. Faegon had only punched him three times in his life, and that was when there was no other choice. That was when he had deemed his taunts no use or was just too angry to care. The elf was unhealthily good at creating insults on the spot and was almost scarily good at talking his way out of things.

So, staring stonily at the other elfling, Elladan kept his mouth shut, his cheeks tinted pink with rage. It was a hard position to hold, and his heart burned inside him, begging him to retaliate. It screamed at him to say something, to do something, to act upon his emotions, and it hurt. It physically hurt. Across from him, Faegon seemed to notice his jibes were failing, but also saw that the son of Elrond was beginning to break. He was starting to lose his temper. It was working, and he merely had to increase the pressure. With that in mind, he scoffed, scuffing the toe of his boot on the tender grass. It was an annoying thing to watch, as it gave the other elfling the look of practical bliss while he was over there suffering.

"Oh, mute too? Or is it you're too dumb to speak? Hmm? Is it the human inside you, or is it your father?" At his words, Elladan snapped. What was left of his resolve was gone, and his cheeks blazed hot with fire, his eyes practically seeing red. First his mother, now his father? Anger glazing his eyes, the young half-elf advanced, hands clenching so tightly that his nails bit into his skin.

"Oh, you look angry. What are you going to do? Slap me? Tackle me?" The brown-haired elf paused for a moment, and then smiled, nodding several times as if considering something. "Or are you going to cry?"

"Elladan!" Both young elves froze. Elladan stiffened and he turned, his posture immediately relaxing, though his eyes still held dread. Faegon looked over the hill a moment after him, and scowled, immediately beginning to step back, slinking back into the shadows. Elrohir was running towards them, his short legs carrying him as fast as he could will them. He looked rather excited and more than happy. But as soon as the younger twin saw them, he halted, his steps faltering as he slowed to a walk. Elrohir looked slowly between them, suddenly rather confused, and uncertain.

"We're not finished," Faegon growled lowly, and turned quickly, his slow pace morphing into a jog. The young elf was out of sight before Elladan could even think of something to say. Odd. He knew that on any ordinary occasion, Faegon would not have cared if Elrohir approached, and would have just continued if only to see what the son of Elrond would do. If only to see him break his promise. But something was different. It wasn't long before Elrohir was by his side, rather breathless his face flushed pink from exertion. The Peredhel inhaled sharply before speaking.

"Nana sent me to get you... lunch... is nearly ready." The younger twin paused, all joy vanishing from his round face. This wasn't what he was expecting. Elladan looked horrible. His face was red hot, and there was a speck of blood on his lip, not to mention his eyes watered. What happened? Was it Faegon?

"What was that all about?" Elrohir asked immediately, glancing back in the direction where Faegon had disappeared. There was nothing to see now, except the low hanging boughs of trees which swayed in the gentle wind. It was as if nothing had even happened. Elladan, turning away, sighed heavily and shrugged, sparing his twin a small glance.

"It was nothing."

* * *

Later that day, rather deep into the afternoon, the twins arrived home. Immediately after seeing their bedraggled – and war-wearied as Glorfindel called it – appearance, their mother, sent them straight to their room to wash, and to clean themselves up for a late lunch. After that, Elladan and Elrohir spent a rather long time lounging around on their beds, exhausted from the days taxing trials. However, the moment boredom took over; the two found themselves walking into the family room. It was getting close to mealtime, and they had nothing better to do, as their lessons were finished and training over for the day. So, the family room it was. And as far as they knew, it was bound to be empty, save for an occasional visitor, or the family cat.

However, when the two arrived, they were surprised. Pleasantly so. Instead of the small area only occupying a few inhabitants – not to mention the household cat – it held a rather larger sum of people than they expected. Erestor – chief adviser to Lord Elrond – was sitting in the far corner of the room, relaxing in a high-backed chair as his silver eyes carefully scanned a stack of papers. It was typical for the adviser to bring work wherever he went, and it was almost annoying. But, as there was no way to stop it, no one bothered to. Across the room to the left, Elrond and Celebrían sat together on a two-seater lounge, apparently just having finished an idle conversation.

It was an altogether happy atmosphere, and Elladan froze in the doorway, halting right in front of Elrohir. He didn't know why he stopped; perhaps he was nervous, maybe he was just tired, he wasn't sure. But nonetheless, the small elf blocked the doorway, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Elrohir, not realizing his brother had stopped, bumped his nose on Elladan's shoulder, backtracking quickly in surprise. He scowled, annoyed at his twin's sudden halt, and rubbed the offended area, his gray eyes watering in the slightest.

"Dan!" he said irritably, trying to shove his way past Elladan. For a moment, nothing happened, as if Elladan hadn't even heard him. But then, almost flinching, the older twin moved, stepping aside quickly to let Elrohir pass. He then shook his head tiredly and followed, suddenly noticing Glorfindel. He hadn't seen him before, though he guessed it was because the warrior had been far off to the side. But now, having finally found him, he watched Glorfindel from the corner of his eye. The Gondolin elf was in the process of shoving Carca – a big, fat black cat with a long mane of fur – off his lap. The animal growled savagely and lashed out, her sharp claw catching the warrior on the wrist and making him curse. Elladan's eyes widened considerably at the word. He hadn't even been aware that curse word existed, but filed it away in his memory.

"Ai! Little demon. Bother someone else," the golden-haired elf growled, gently, though firmly, grasping the cat's paws in one hand, and using the other to support his enormous belly. He then lifted her off his lap, letting go and nudging the animal away with his foot. Carca shifted with a guttural growl, flattening herself out like a badger as she hissed, staring up at him dangerously and wagging her tail. The long-haired cat's yellow eyes glinted furiously at the Balrog Slayer, and she once again shifted, as if preparing to strike. It was a death glare if he had ever seen one. Once again, Glorfindel waved her off with an annoyed glance. Then, slinking low to the ground, or as low as she could go before her stomach touched it, Carca prowled away.

"Elladan, Elrohir, how was practice?" Elrond's voice asked suddenly, causing both twins to look up from where they were unconsciously watching the strange exchange. "Glorfindel tells me you both did fairly well."

At his father's words, Elladan shifted uncomfortably, glancing over to look at the Gondolin elf – possibly attempting to see if they knew – but the warrior only winked at him. Immediately taking courage from the subtle gesture – and feeling obvious relief – the older twin forced a smile and shrugged. Even though Glorfindel had promised him he wouldn't mention it to his parents; there was still that lingering fear. The fear that somehow, they would find out. But it appeared they hadn't.

"It went well," Elrohir answered first – as if sensing his brother's unease – and smiling sweetly at their parents. Elladan nodded in agreement. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door – saving the two from answering any more questions – and both breathed a sigh of relief, bolting off to answer it. As soon as Elrohir twisted it open, Lindir peeked in, smiling at the two adolescents.

"My lord, I wanted to inform you, lunch is ready," the Minstrel said quickly, dipping his head in respect to the room of people. Standing swiftly, both Elrond and Celebrían nodded their thanks, a sign for everyone else to rise. Erestor quickly straightened his stack of forms and laid them aside on the desk, joining the others as they filed out of the room. But, as soon as they were gone, and the door was shut tightly, Carca rose from her position by the unlit fireplace. The large cat, glancing around as if to make sure she was alone, then hurriedly padded over to the couches, springing lightly off her feet to land on the plush surfaces. Carca then mewed softly and jumped again, springing up to the only table in the room and settling herself snugly onto a thick sheaf of papers. No one would receive those back for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

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Later that evening after dinner had been served and the twins helped clear off the table, the twins were heading back to their room when Glorfindel caught up with them. He knew they had a very trying day and Elladan was still beating himself up over earlier, so he decided he would take the twins out to the old swimming hole and hang out like they used to when they were younger.

"Hey, you two, what are you up to?" the golden-haired ellon asked although he already knew the answer to his question.

Elladan didn't answer as he was inclined not to talk much when he was upset, whereas his brother generally would talk the ear off anyone who would give him a chance. When Elrohir saw his brother was not going to talk, he sighed and turned back towards Glorfindel. "We were just going to head back to our room and probably read a book or finish up our reports. Why do you ask?"

Glorfindel chuckled. Oh, it was so like Elrohir to be the more diplomatic and more relaxed of the two. He already knew Elrohir would more than likely take over the lordship of Imladris when their father eventually sailed. He already was displaying a natural leadership at such a young age. When Glorfindel looked at Elladan, he saw a warrior, a natural born leader in a battle. He reminded him a lot of himself truth be told, which is why he was closer to the elder twin.

"Oh, I was just wondering tis all," he said shrugging his shoulders. "You know; I was wondering if perhaps the two of you would like to go out to the old swimming hole I used to take you to when you were younger? I know you have had a big day today and I thought it would do you some good." Glorfindel had a feeling Elladan would try and talk his way out of it, but Glorfindel wouldn't take no for an answer. The last thing he needed to do was isolate himself.

Elrohir jumped at the idea and turned to his brother who was shifting his feet. Elrohir knew what was coming next. "That sounds fun and all," Elladan began, "but I think I will pass and just head off to bed after I finish my reports for the training exercises tomorrow." Elladan started to walk away when Glorfindel stopped him by placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Elladan, young one, I know you wish to be alone, and usually I would respect your wishes, but this time I am insisting you come with your brother and me. It will do you some good to be around others, and it will help get your mind off things. So, I want you to go and get your swim gear and meet me back here when you are ready."

Elladan was about to argue but upon seeing the look on his mentor's face, knew it would have done no good. So, with a heavy sigh, he turned and went to his room to get ready. He only hoped his brother would not ask him any questions about why he was in such a funk.

When the twins arrived at their room Elladan started gathering his belongings, he could sense his twin looking at him, and it drove him crazy. Every time something was wrong, Elrohir would just stare at him until he either screamed at him to stop – which would just cause him to feel guilty afterward – or he told him what was bothering him. Not wishing to cause a fight he bit his already tender lip and broke the silence. "What is it Elrohir?" He knew the tone was a little sharper than he intended but he didn't want to talk about this.

"Elladan, why are you so quiet and moody? Does this have to do with Faegon and what happened earlier?"

Elladan hit his head with his hand and moaned. He did not want to hear that jerks name right now. It was like a fork scraping across a dinner plate. "Elrohir, I don't want to talk about it, so long story short, yes it does."

Elrohir sighed. "Elladan, I don't see what the big deal is. You did nothing wrong. You didn't fight back like he wanted you to and Glorfindel obviously is not mad at you. Faegon was punished you should be happy."

Elladan knew his brother was right, but he had reacted and broke his promise. He should have just turned and walked away, but he didn't. True he didn't lash out at him like he wanted to but he still reacted nonetheless. "Elrohir, I broke the promise we made to nana and ada. I didn't walk away; I let him goad me and on the first day!"

"Elladan, you did nothing wrong! You had every right to stand up for our mother. Anyone would have done the same if it was them. So please stop beating yourself up and let us go have some fun."

Elladan couldn't stand his brother pleading with him like that. It was almost pathetic, and it worked every time. Rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, he turned and faced his brother trying so hard to look angry and tough, but upon seeing his brother sticking his lower lip out and batting his eyes, Elladan couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous sight and tossed his towel at him. "Oh fine! I was never able to win against that face anyways."

Elrohir laughed and tossed the towel back at his brother. "Good, now let us go before Glorfindel comes up here and starts banging on the door. He was never good at waiting."

The two of them packed their stuff and went back down to where Glorfindel was beginning to get impatient. When he saw the twins, he noticed Elladan looked happier. Good, Elrohir must have talked to him, he thought to himself.

"So, are you two ready?"

The twins nodded as they met up with Glorfindel. Picking up his bag of clothing and his towel and with a grin, the golden-haired ellon led the twins out of the Last Homely House and towards the swimming hole.

Down at the old swimming hole three lone elves could be heard laughing and splashing water, all thoughts of earlier washed away. Elladan could not have been happier as he managed to maneuver away from his brother, Glorfindel laughing at the sight. Oh, what he wouldn't give to see Elladan stay this happy but he knew that was impossible so he would make do with what he had and just live in the here and now for he knew it would do no one any good to dwell on the future.

* * *

Lord Illyren I know. I just want to knock the socks off Faegon so bad. However, Elladan won't be entirely innocent come future chapters but then again who can exactly blame him when he does act out?


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

It was early morning when Glorfindel had the elfling's out on the training grounds. Usually, the older elves would be out at this time, on this field. The younger elves practice wasn't until later. However, the elf lord knew he was going to be out all day. It was an unfortunate event. Due to a problem in the patrol drafting, they were missing a few members, and they didn't have someone who could take over last minute. Someone had messed up when writing the reports and rosters, and now they were shorthanded. Very much so, that Glorfindel and Faron were needed in a small scouting mission. It wasn't too bad, as the two would be back by the next morning. But, to keep on schedule, and because of the more advanced classes, the sessions were pushed harder. And, with Faron's busy schedule, the Gondolin elf had to improvise.

He would teach the elflings earlier in the morning, and Faron was assigned to be across the field, teaching the older elves. The sessions were forced back to back and shortened, to fit them into the small slot of time. But not by any means did it get easier. No, with the shorter time, and limited resources, Glorfindel made it harder – to the point of frustration. The children couldn't think someone's mistake would make life easier for them. No, mistakes often made life more difficult.

So, here they were, standing silently – blearily – in the middle of a shadowed training field, the golden sun just beginning to claw at the earth with its light. The grass was damp and cold beneath them, and fog lingered in their midst, swirling and weaving around their small forms. It gave the place a tired feeling. The elfling's seemed to be huddled into a small blob, sleeping on their feet as they waited for their teacher to give them orders. They looked rather relaxed, still drowsy from the early morning wake-up call. Glorfindel smirked. That wouldn't do.

"ATTENTION!" he bellowed loudly, grinning. Like a flock of terrified birds, the children scattered, scrambling to find their places. It didn't cross their mind; they weren't assigned positions yet. However, he was glad to see they were retaining his commands. He watched in amusement as Elrohir ran headlong into another elfling, and the two collapsed to the floor, dazed. But immediately, the younger twin was up again, offering a hand to his fellow trainee. Glorfindel smiled. The twins truly were raised well. Despite their competitiveness, they also managed to be team players – gentlemen. Once the children were lined up into what seemed to be their own, creative positions of attention – spread out in odd angles – Glorfindel spoke again.

"Alright, as you know, I won't be here the rest of the day; so, guess what? We get to do extra work." This earned a collective groan from the assembled elflings, and the golden-haired elf smirked. "So, I give you a choice. Turn in your essays on combat, and we'll look over them. Or... we can start the day off with a nice few laps around the field?" Blue eyes studied them intently, patiently waiting for the tired elfling's response. Slowly, murmuring began.

"Is this a trick question?" the elfling Elrohir knocked over asked quietly. Faegon snorted from somewhere in the group and rolled his eyes.

"Of course, it is! Either way, we'll be worked hard. Running a thousand laps, or sitting for hours going over an essay which might just turn out to be another combat lesson," the chocolate haired elfling paused for a second and then smirked in the morning light, "or a literature class."

Over near the front, the Noldo raised a golden eyebrow. He was surprised. Faegon was annoying, a bully, and an immature, little brat. However, he was also smart, and very perceptive, if not the best judge of character. The boy had the makings of a formidable warrior. It was probably why, despite everything, he and Elladan were at the top of the class, in skill at least. Behavior? Well, that was something else. However, this was – by no account – a literature class. That was Erestor's job. And he would make Faegon run another three laps before he mistook this for a simple writing class. He didn't care how bad the paper was. The point was to understand the concept.

"You know what? I've changed my mind," Glorfindel interrupted cheerfully, causing all the trainees to freeze. They stared back at him with large eyes, and it was almost comical. It was never a good sign when the Gondolin elf changed his mind, at least not from what they had heard. "Let's start out with running. First one to meet me at the finish line gets to have a pass on their paper. How does that sound?"

Shifting was his answer. The poor students were not exactly sure that was a good thing. However, before anyone could give any argument, the captain turned on his heel. And leaped into a sprint, his long legs taking him across the field. Glorfindel glanced back at them. They hadn't moved.

"That's your cue! Four laps!" he yelled back to them, his voice booming loudly across the yard. It hit the trainees like an explosion, and before they could hesitate, they were off like arrows from a bow. It was either sit around and contemplate, or risk getting another lap added. So, they had no choice. No one wanted to run more than they had to. So, forcing himself into a sprint, Elladan dragged himself to the front, passing the others with alarming speed. However, ever on his tale, was Elrohir and Faegon.

As the race went on, various people started to fall behind, and Elladan wasn't quite sure if it was Glorfindel's idea of a cruel joke; but the Noldo added an extra lap right as they began to end the third. It was torture. But at last, they were finished, and suddenly, they all understood why Glorfindel added the extra round. To add more work, right when someone thought they were finished, usually destroyed moral.

It was a test. Who would persevere? Who had burned themselves out? Which one's had more endurance? Which had more speed? But most of all, he was looking for the lazy ones, the ones who didn't care. It was clever. He was able to see just how hard they were willing to work. Both Elladan and Faegon had, sadly, fallen significantly behind on the last few meters, but that didn't mean they weren't trying. It just meant they needed to be prepared. Pace themselves for a longer run. Prepare for the unlikely. Elrohir had shown extraordinary endurance and had come in third, following Faegon and Elladan.

Two other trainees had taken the lead, and strangely enough, it was the elfling Elrohir bumped into earlier that had won, though only by a few inches. He had been in the back at the start but had pushed himself on the last lap. Smart, Glorfindel noted. There were a lot of formidable and talented elves in his class this year. Glorfindel noticed Elladan's sullen face, and he knew it wasn't just because he hadn't won. Faegon had beat him. That had to kill him inside, especially since the brown haired ellon was subtly rubbing it in his face. Not to mention, the looks and strange words whispered behind his back. He'd have to talk to him later. But for now, they needed to keep training. Do their best, and if they could, go beyond.

The papers were quite short, just a simple review. Glorfindel didn't go deeply into them. A simple explanation and answering questions. However, after that came the workout. They only had a few more minutes of class time left, and Glorfindel was going to make every second count.

"Let's go, we have exactly twenty minutes till the graduating seniors come in, and I want to do as much as we can!" He looked at Elladan and gave a small smile, seeing the older twin breathe out a tired sigh. "Who wants to lead us in a round of push-ups?" Glorfindel looked around carefully, then added, knowing the decision should not be made on a whim. "The crew only follows their leader's orders, if they trust him with more than just their lives. The importance of following an order goes beyond respect and trust. It's faith."

At his words, his students shifted nervously, and Elladan especially looked crestfallen. No one was willing to find out how much their friends trusted them, lest it end in despair. However, right as Faegon was going to step forward, someone called out Elladan's name. The older twin froze in place, tensing like a cornered deer. After the race – both times – being called out was the last thing he wanted. His fellow trainees already looked somewhat down upon him, either with jealousy or pity. And there was no way he wanted to encourage the misery he was already in. Plus, he didn't think nominations were allowed. However, to his surprise, Glorfindel seemed to consider this. He knew that if Elladan failed to get over his awkwardness and shame, then he would never be able to lead or feel proud of himself. Yes, the other teammates were slightly prejudiced against both Elladan and Elrohir, but loyalty also went beyond people's assumptions.

Dread filled the older twins form when Glorfindel said nothing, and he realized he had to do it. So, padding gently across the now bright green grass, illuminated by the early morning sun – it was at least seven o'clock – he meekly stood in front of the Balrog Slayer. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow for the thousandth time that morning.

"Well, go on. Give the order," he said expectantly. This class wasn't just about testing the students, or making them suffer through hard work – no matter how much he enjoyed last part – it was about teaching them to lead and find their talents. This was the best time to start. Elladan swallowed slightly, but then seemed to gain confidence, the older elf's smile encouraging him. He could do this. It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? It was a simple command, being able to keep count, and do the work – yet, he wasn't so sure he could complete that last one. Fifty push-ups were a little extreme for their age. But, he guessed that was just Glorfindel. His only fear was no one would listen.

"To the floor," he said firmly, also dropping, as was custom. There was no hesitation –whether it was because Glorfindel was standing there, he didn't know – but every single elfling dropped, and waited formally for the count. Elladan grinned, suddenly confident by the ease at which they obeyed. And then he did the first push-up, which began the count. Now, he understood why the Balrog Slayer enjoyed this so much. It was satisfying. It was... exciting. To know your comrades respected you enough to follow you, whether encouraged by a warrior's presence or not. Even Faegon obeyed orders, though he knew for a fact, the other elfling just wanted to avoid being called out. But despite that, the older twin's grin grew, and he increased the pace, feeling his arms burn and shake as they rose in number.

It hurt, it seared his limbs, but he couldn't stop. He just couldn't. Even when he felt his elbows buckle beneath his weight, he made it to fifty, and in the end, it made all the difference. Pure exhaustion from the day washed over him, and he knew in a few moments, he wouldn't be able to move, as he watched his fellow trainees collapse, the agony in their muscles screaming at them. And yet, as he and Elrohir limped to breakfast that morning, he couldn't have been happier.

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Lord Illyren: I am so glad you liked it. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

Morning was just rising over the valley of Imladris, covering it in a splash of pink, red and orange hues giving it an unearthly feel. Almost a mystical, frivolous atmosphere, leaving the impression of being transported to some whimsical land.

Inside the House of Elrond, most of the citizens were still asleep, for it was not quite nearly time to rise. The only beings to be up at this hour was the staff of the Last Homely House, who were bustling around to get the morning breakfast ready for when the rest of the elves awoke; which would not be too long, and the Lord of Imladris, who had woken well before the sun. Indeed, he had been well aware and alert before it had even risen over the hills. And he was not too happy about it. In fact, he was quite peeved his body decided to wake up at such a ghastly hour, for he knew he would more than likely be in a foul mood the rest of the day.

The lord hurriedly got dressed, deciding he might as well get some much-needed paperwork done. That way, he could spend the rest of the day with his wife. His sons would be busy that afternoon, spending some much-needed time with the other members of the summer camp. Both he and Celebrían had suggested throwing a picnic by the Bruinen as a way for his sons to branch out, and get to know their fellow teammates, and when they had come back excitedly telling them the majority of them had accepted the offer, Celebrían was thrilled proposing to make the lunch for them.

Elrond hoped this would take his eldest son's mind off Faegon and was slightly disappointed to learn Elladan had invited him anyways. However, when he stopped to think about his son's actions, he couldn't help but smile. It made him see exactly what was in Elladan's heart. And his older son obviously had more tact, compared to Faegon, who would have shoved it in Elladan's face, bragging about the fact he had invited everyone else and not him. However – and to their complete relief – Elladan told them Faegon declined in his usual, beastly manner. Hopefully, just for this one day, Elladan could relax and have fun instead of constantly being on alert and defending himself against constant, never-ending attacks. Elrond shook his head and stifled a yawn, heading slowly out to his study. Glorfindel and Faron would be back any moment from their overnight scouting mission.

They had been sent out at the last minute due to some mix up in the patrol rosters. Someone messed up when writing the lists, and now they were short-staffed. Unfortunately, that meant Glorfindel and Faron had to go instead. When he entered his study, he was surprised to see both of his captains waiting for him.

"Lord Glorfindel, Lord Faron, what are you doing here at this hour? I would have thought you would have at least cleaned up a bit first. The report could have waited a few hours." Indeed, the two ellyn were covered in dirt and looked as if they had not slept at all that night.

"Yes, well we wanted to brief you on what we found first before we cleaned up and got some much-needed rest," Glorfindel explained tiredly, trying to hold back a yawn. Elrond cringed at the pitiful sight of his two captains and realized just how glad he was he didn't have to do those horrid nightly patrols anymore. Although, he had to admit sometimes he would take those patrols over doing mountains of paperwork.

"What is it you have found that could not have waited until you were rested?" he asked with a half concerned, half sympathetic look. Faron took this time to step forward and bowed slightly, causing a bit of dirt and a twig or two to fall out of his black hair.

"My Lord Elrond, we have discovered a small band of slave traders not too far from our borders. They apparently are selling slaves to the Easterlings; for what purpose, we do not know." Elrond nearly dropped his glass of water. Slave traders here? The very thought made him sick. They would have to find out where they were getting the slaves and what the purpose was for them.

"I see," Elrond said slowly still trying to take all this in. "This is very disturbing news indeed. We must find out exactly where they are getting their victims from, and what they are using them for. For right now I suggest you get cleaned up and get some rest. You two will have to hold off on training the summer recruits for the time being, while you gather some of the veteran warriors to put a stop to these slavers." Glorfindel and Faron's face fell at hearing training would have to be put off for a while.

"My Lord Elrond," Faron said, trying to find the right words to use. "I know they must be stopped, but we only have a few months to get the younger trainees up to par for their final exam. The longer we hold off, the less likely they will be ready, and they will have to retake this course next year. There is no one else to train them."

Elrond thought about this. He knew Faron was right, but they could not let this atrocious act continue. Then he had an idea, it was crazy, but it just might work – at least for now.

"I understand your concern. Nevertheless, there is no other choice. You two are the best trained in my patrol, and you must stop this slave trade at all costs." Faron and Glorfindel made to protest, but Elrond put his hand up to silence them.

"So, while you are gone, I will take over with the training. All you have to do is give me the roster and what you have planned for the next week or two and I will take over from there." Glorfindel and Faron just stood, staring at Elrond as if he had just grown two heads.

"My Lord Elrond, with all due respect, you have not done training in a few thousand years, and as your sons are on the list, it may not be the best idea," Glorfindel said, trying not to sound disrespectful. Elrond nodded his understanding and sat down folding his hands.

"That is true, but I am still able to read reports and handle a weapon, and Erestor can help me if needed. As for my sons, that will not be a problem. I am not prone to showing favoritism, and I assure you they will be treated the same as everyone else. Now, this discussion is closed. Get some rest, for you leave in two days. When you get up, you can get everything I will need together to take over your classes."

Glorfindel and Faron knew there was no point in arguing, for when Elrond made his mind up about something, he would not back down. Sighing in defeat, they bowed their heads in acknowledgment and left his offices to clean up and rest. As soon as the two had left, Elrond took up his quill. Shaking his head, he got to work on the reports and began to count down the hours until he could spend time with Celebrían.

* * *

"Nana, we are going to be late for the picnic. Everyone is already there!" Elladan yelled from the eating hall. They were supposed to have been at the Bruinen almost an hour ago, and they had not even left the manor yet. Celebrían bustled out of the kitchen, carrying two huge baskets of food. When the boys told her they invited several teammates from their training camp to a picnic at the river, she was ecstatic and had offered to cook up the lunch for them.

"I am sorry ion nín. I just wanted to make sure you had enough for everybody," she said sheepishly while handing Elrohir and Elladan each a basket of food.

Nearly dropping his, Elladan looked up at his mother with wide eyes. "Nana, what on earth did you pack? From the weight, you would think we were feeding an army of yrch!"

Elrohir stifled a laugh. However, when he tried lifting his basket, he couldn't help but grunt himself. "Nana, I promise food is not going to run out. We are only going to be gone for a few hours."

Celebrían blushed softly. "I know, but you are growing boys, and you need to keep up your strength. Besides, I didn't know what your friends liked, so I packed a little of everything... just to be safe. Now, remember to behave yourselves. Don't do anything foolish to try and show off. Just be yourselves, and the real people will be the ones to befriend you."

Elladan and Elrohir groaned. "Nana, we promise we will behave. You don't have to worry about us. We are fifty after all."

"I am your mother, and therefore I will always worry about you, even when you are three thousand years old. It is my job. Now hurry up and get going and be back before sundown."

"As much food as is packed in here, it will take us until sundown just to get there," Elrohir mumbled to his brother, picking up his basket. Elladan chortled softly.

"What was that young man?" Celebrían asked arching an eyebrow at her youngest.

"Nothing naneth! I said we would be careful and we would be back before sundown," Elrohir corrected himself quickly, watching his brother as he tried not to smirk.

"That is what I thought you said."

Quickly walking out the doors, the two made their way slowly to the river, trying to come up with a good excuse as to why they were so late. When they got there, everyone was already having fun, splashing in the water and joking around with one another. Off in the distance, they noticed another set of twins with reddish brown hair sitting on a boulder, taking turns tossing pebbles in the river. Elladan and Elrohir had talked with them a few times in training, and the four of them had become good acquaintances. Indeed, they were the same age and had a bit in common.

"Hey look, Elladan and Elrohir have finally shown up!" one of the twins yelled out.

"Well it is about time," the other exclaimed, hopping off the boulder to help Elladan set the basket down.

"We were beginning to think you were not showing up."

"Sorry, our mom decided to pack enough food to feed an army," Elrohir said dryly, setting his basket down.

"What is your name again?"

"Oh, sorry, my name is Raithon, and that is my older twin Radhron. If you want to know an easy way to tell us apart, my brother has a cleft in his chin and freckles on his nose. I, as you can see have a cleft, but no freckles," the twin that had helped Elladan said, laughing. Elrohir looked closer and noticed Raithon was right; he indeed did not have any freckles.

"So, who, all is hungry? I think there is something for everyone here."

"I believe we all are," said another elfling Elrohir recognized as Leston, a blonde hair elfling that had on occasion been seen talking to Faegon. Elrohir was not quite sure about him yet, as he was slightly distrustful of anyone who was on friendly terms with his brother's rival. The rest of the ellyn came running over at the sound of food and sat down.

"Wow, your naneth knows how to pack a picnic! I wish mine would feed us like that," Sarndir cried out, beginning to help himself to a roast beef sandwich and some fruit. The other's laughing began to help themselves to the food, and soon, the whole Bruinen was filled with the sound of laughter as they all told jokes and family stories. Yet, not everyone was happy, for watching from a distance in a tree, was a very disgruntled Faegon.

So, I was right, Faegon thought to himself, the spoiled bratty royal sons of Elrond can have as many friends as they want without even having to try. They can do what they want and have whatever they want and get away with it. Well, just wait Elladan, soon I will show everyone just how stuck up you, and your brother are, and everyone will see you for who you are. A nobody!

Quietly climbing down from the tree, Faegon slipped away to go and begin to put his plan into motion.

* * *

 **Lord Illyren:** I agree with you. Elladan needs the confidence for Faegon will be making his life a living hell very shortly


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth.

We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story. Disclaimer: We do not own any of the characters except for our OC's. You may recognize her OC Faegon from her story _Beneath the Storm_ and my OC's Faron, Radhron and Raithon from my story _The Breaking_. We hope you enjoy

* * *

"Very well..." Glorfindel paused, glancing thoughtfully to his right. Was there something he was forgetting? The doors to the barn were left open, allowing the early rays of sunlight in. Around him, the stable glowed, the atmosphere made metallic by the lanterns hanging in the loft. Horse heads peeked out of their stalls, silhouetted by the shadows of night. For some reason, it made it harder to think, so he voiced his thoughts.

"Is there anything I have forgotten," Glorfindel mumbled offhandedly, scanning Asfaloth's saddle. Not finding what he was looking for, the Balrog Slayer pulled the strap tightly and turned back to Elrond. "Ah yes! Remember to make sure you work them hard. And when I say hard, I mean they will be begging for a break and rest. They do not get a break till they have completed every single exercise and workout. And after that, you'll go right into sword and dagger drills."

Elrond nodded, handing Glorfindel his bow and quiver. The Gondolin elf thanked him and strapped the weapons on, lost in thought. He was apparently distracted. Of course, it wasn't hard to figure out why. He had been preparing for this moment since yesterday. The two lords hadn't had time to talk since their last meeting, which was an inconvenience. It meant he would have to explain everything the morning he left, which he and Faron had been doing for a while – since breakfast.

Elrond sighed in irritation. "Glorfindel, I know how to train warriors. I've done it before."

Glorfindel shrugged absently, as if having considered the fact, and grinned, motioning to Faron. The dark-haired captain stepped forward, brandishing a stack of papers. "These are yours. A guideline for when you train them. Glorfindel and I made sure there are enough lessons to last a week and a half." Faron offered the thick stack to Elrond, and he took them, peering uselessly at the shadowed words. He'd have to wait till he found a lamp to read them. Of course, the Noldo wouldn't have much time. The older elves still needed to be trained, and their lessons started within the hour. However, there was always improvising. Faron shrugged and stepped back, smiling to himself. The two warriors then mounted their horses.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Elrond asked dryly, shuffling the sheaf into a neat stack. Glorfindel reined his horse around in thought, glancing briefly up to the sky. Then he seemed to realize something. "Oh, a warning from a friend: Faegon can be a pain in the backside."

"Something I don't know?" The very thought of Faegon this early in the morning was not a pleasant thought. In fact, it caused his blood to seethe, and that was not a good thing to happen right before training was to start.

This time, Faron spoke. "You'll have a very disgruntled Erestor to deal with."

The Lord of Imladris grinned. Of course, he already knew that. But the thought was amusing. As the two began to exit the stable, Elrond rolled his eyes to the heavens. Sometimes, he wasn't sure what to think of those two.

* * *

Elrond shuffled his papers into a stack, thumbing through each one carefully. The last thing he wanted was to forget something, especially if it was important. So, the Peredhel went through his notes one more time. And as expected, there laid the same information. Not much use.

Beside him, leaning tiredly on a sheathed sword, Erestor waited patiently. The advisor had already read the papers while sitting groggily at a breakfast table. He was well aware of their goal and showed no enthusiasm whatsoever. So, after a quick breakfast, they had gone to work and now stood in the middle of a foggy training yard. The reason for his apparent fatigue was rather obvious. The advisor usually stayed awake most of the night, his nose in a book or his studies. However, when he did stay up that late, he preferred to rise after the sun, not before it. So, his sarcastic demeanor and grim attitude were not completely unfounded. Especially since they just finished training a large group of snarky, prideful youths. Now they were moving on to even tinier youths. An entirely different set of problems. Something told him his sarcastic, blunt comments would not be so readily accepted here. Slowly, fatigued elfling's began to arrive. Elladan and Elrohir were the first to come, dragging their training gear across the yard to their stations. Elrond frowned disapprovingly.

"Elladan, Elrohir, don't drag your weapons on the floor no matter how tired you are," he said softly, raising an eyebrow, "a warrior on a battlefield may be exhausted, but he still must hold himself and his gear high."

The two shared a look and then straightened. "Yes adar," they chorused wearily, continuing their march with renewed vigor. The two walked up the small hill towards a lone tree, standing as straight as they possibly could. Elrond shrugged and grinned, turning to Erestor. The dark-haired advisor was eyeing him strangely.

"What?" he asked a confused look clearly evident on his face.

"Do they remind you of anyone?"

The half-elf paused, brow furrowing. "What do you mean?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Erestor let out a small chuckle and rolled his eyes to the dark sky. The first smile he offered all morning. "Nothing, my lord."

A few minutes later, the training yard was filled with young warriors to be. Each had arrived and had set his equipment below the tree. Then they all gathered in the sparring field, buzzes of chatter filling the silence. Erestor looked at the sun, eyeing it carefully. It was time.

"Warriors!" Elrond called out deafeningly, voice carrying above their quiet conversation. Each fell silent, wide eyes watching their lord in respect. All, except the obvious: Faegon stood at the edge of the crowd, shaking his head slowly as he whispered something to a blond elf beside him. Elrond cleared his throat.

"As you were informed, by your parents, Captain Glorfindel and Captain Faron have been sent on a mission."

"Like a secret mission?" one student asked quietly.

Elrond hesitated, then shrugged. "Exactly; but I can't tell you where." The raven-haired elf cracked a grin, shooting Erestor a sly look. The scholar rolled his eyes. "So, since we won't see them for at least another week –"

"– No training?" a young elf in the crowd asked hopefully.

Elrond seemed to consider this and then grinned. "Sadly not my young elfling. We must carry on whether your captains are here or not. So, E- Captain Erestor and I, will be taking over," the elf lord finished, raising both eyebrows.

There was a ripple of malcontent among the young soldiers as they discussed their opinions. Finally, Faegon spoke up. "My lord... isn't Lord Erestor, a scholar? Shouldn't he be in some study translating transcripts?" he asked promptly, looking from one dark-haired elf to the other. Erestor perked up, straightening in his armor. The light layer of protection clanked softly. He smirked, wondering if he was allowed to reply. Or more so, like he did earlier, with the older elves. A quick look from Elrond told him no.

"Erestor fought in the Last Alliance," Elladan declared loudly, glaring at the chocolate-haired elf. Faegon ignored him and looked expectantly at Elrond. The elf lord smiled, stealing a glance at the advisor. Erestor seemed to be content with just letting them think he was a scholar. The elf wasn't an expert in warfare, and he wasn't a sword master. He was a scholar, who just happened to be assisting in a training session. Yes, he had experience with a sword, but after his last battle, he had retired to his studies. So, Elrond agreed.

"Now is not the time to talk about the past." Elrond looked down at his papers, reminding him of what they were supposed to be doing. "Ah, yes, why don't we take a jog around the training yard." There was hesitance, and a buzz of chatter broke the silence. Elrond sighed. "It wasn't a suggestion. Now let's move!"

* * *

Elladan held his wooden training sword up, forcing his feet apart, and turning them outwards, one leg in back, and the other forward. A defense position, correctly, position one. It was increasingly difficult, added to the fact his feet did not want to bend the way he wanted them to. Beside him, another elf did the same, mimicking it as best he could. The others followed, his line shuffling like a bunch of nervous soldiers. Elladan shrugged. Copying him or not, they would have been forced to learn the position sooner or later. It was just the matter of who taught it to them first.

In front of them, Elrond was correcting the first line on their stances – the line with Elrohir – and each seemed to be suffering to stay put. They moved around like bees in a hive. Erestor worked down the other line, not saying much. He knew – unlike a council – children could not be talked into listening to him. He had to make them do it. So, dawning his disapproving, hard gaze, he used the point of a dull sword to prod the elfling's into place. No one seemed to like him, which he didn't particularly care about. Finally, he reached Elladan. The advisor raised an eyebrow. The older twin – whether he knew it or not – was doing an incredible job at picking up movements and drills. Always ahead of them, always waiting for the next order. Nothing short of a natural. Elladan caught his gaze and smiled, straightening.

"Elladan... you're too stiff. Relax," Erestor said easily, motioning for the child to settle down.

Most of the practice that day had been exercising, push-ups, chin-ups, running, and races – hours of it. The races that morning had been different, harder. There had been a relay, and each elfling had to carry a twenty-pound sack of flour over their shoulders each round.

Eventually, as the competition got more intense, and the elfling's touchier, there had been squabbles, particularly between Elladan's group. He had been teamed up with Faegon this time, to avoid any accusations of cheating. It hadn't helped. The two had a heated debate about teammates and flour proportions – something Erestor hadn't thought they knew about – and began to yell. The two were then separated, taken out of the race to avoid any more interruptions. Erestor had been blessed with watching them, and calming them down, as seemed to be his special talent. Getting people to agree even when they hated each other. Now they were going over sword drills, and Elrond had introduced them to a few new positions. Specifically, position one.

Once everyone was more or less, in the position, Elrond nodded. "This is crucial and will save your life. It allows you to lunge with ease, and yet, if someone crashed into you, they would be hard pressed into knocking you over. Step forward, slowly," he commanded, watching their feet carefully. As they did, he added, "now fall back into the same stance, and commit your feet." They did as he said.

Both instructors smiled. "Try coming towards me, performing drill number five, and keeping your feet in place." Elrohir was the first to try it, moving the small sword up to an overhead block, and down to a backhand, twisting the blade and stabbing forward. His feet wavered, threatening to trip him. His attempt was less than perfect. But he tried. "Good, Elrohir." Elrond eyed the others. "Can we all try it together? Elrohir leading?"

Faegon snorted. "He didn't even do a good job. He nearly fell on his face. What makes you think he'll be a good leader?" he asked snidely, rolling brown eyes to the heaven. Elrond raised both eyebrows at him, shocked. "Because he's your son? Please, he can barely keep up with the class on sword work. You'll probably just bribe Glorfindel to pass him, like all snobby royals. If anyone should lead it, it should be me."

Elladan burned with fury, looking between his calm father, and Faegon. The elfling's words weren't even accurate. Elrohir was doing well for such an advanced class. It was a lie. A blatant lie! How was his father not angry? After all the little spawn had done today, Elrond was still so patient with him! The older twin growled, emotions stirring dangerously. Standing quietly in the front lines, Elrohir wilted, stepping back, cheeks flaming red. Elladan saw it, and fire ignited within him. "How dare you!" he shouted, shoving his way through the crowd. The oldest son of Elrond bristled, stepping up into Faegon's face. "You have no right to speak of El like that!"

Faegon took a small step back, glancing back at the Lord of Imladris. The elfling's around them gasped, watching in shock. "What? Are you going to hit me? Punch me? It doesn't matter; your ada will simply let you get away with it. So come on, let everyone see. Do it."

Elrond looked insulted. The elf lord seemed to be debating if he should intervene, or see if Elladan could handle it himself. It was only a few seconds of hesitance, and yet, it was a mistake. Elladan's hands bunched into fists, and he lunged. Both elfling's hit the floor with a thud, the older twin managing to stay on top. Elrond dashed forward. "Elladan! Faegon!" he shouted angrily, voice rising. The elfling's around him flinched, shying away. He grabbed his son's arm and pulled him off, feeling the elfling struggle and shudder with rage. Elladan lunged once more, hot tears forming in his eyes. More from the unfairness of it all, then anything else. But his father held him tightly.

"Elladan... stop," he said evenly, a warning in his voice. Elladan looked up at him, the anger in his eyes diminishing slowly, but held within, though all rage was quenched, laid a small seed of defiance. Faegon got up, stiffly brushing himself off. He wasn't hurt, unless ruffled and disheveled counted.

Elrohir stood off to the side, shocked. "Ada–"

"No, Elrohir. This is between your brother and me." Elrond turned to Erestor, gray eyes strained. Almost pained. "Watch them." The advisor shrugged, naturally discreet as he began to shuffle their lines into order. After a small pause, the elf lord knelt in front of Elladan with an air of disappointment. Loving, but also condemning. "You and I will talk after this."

Elladan nodded, forcing his gaze down to the ground. "Ada... I am sorry," he said meekly, voice cracking. The older twin took a deep breath, using the action to keep himself from breaking.

Elrond sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "I know."

"B-but... not about attacking him," the younger Peredhel added quickly, looking up with clear gray eyes. Elrond's brow furrowed. The elfling's words were firm, convicted. "He deserved that." Elladan let out a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over with tears. The child hiccupped, forcing himself to stay calm. "I am s-sorry for letting y-you down..."  
Elrond slowly nodded, surprised. For more than one reason. He pulled his child into a hug. "Let's talk about this after class, ion nín."

Faegon stood apart from the class directing his attention to father and son's exchange. The ellon glowered. And Elrond turned his gaze to him, watching him carefully. "Both of you, go back to work. If I see or hear anything out of you that is not related to the lesson, then there will be severe consequences."

* * *

Elladan sat underneath the tree, lips pressed into a thin line. His arms crossed over his chest, the older twin leaned back against the trunk, watching the field with resigned eyes. Elfling's dispersed, heading home for the day. Training was over, and his talk awaited him. Something he knew had to happen, yet he didn't look forward to it. Faegon also stayed behind, though he was as far away from Elladan as possible. The chocolate-haired ellon was sitting near the weapons bin, absently drumming his fingers over the wooden surface. Neither was fond of what would follow.

As soon as the elfling's left the clearing – Erestor leading Elrohir home – Elrond approached Faegon. The two talked for a while, words inaudible to his ears. However, from what he saw, it looked as if the conversation was only one sided. Faegon didn't say a word. He didn't even seem to be listening. So, Elrond simply kept eye contact and continued speaking. After a moment, the talk was over, and Elrond shooed the boy away, watching as he walked despondently towards home. The next thing Elladan knew, was his father was beside him, offering him a hand. The older twin blinked out of his daze, quickly scrambling to his feet.

"Let's clean and talk," Elrond said easily. He didn't seem as mad as Elladan had previously thought. More... reserved, thoughtful. It was times like these when his father was like this that scared the boy more for he did not know what to expect. His father walked into the fields and began picking up training swords.

Slowly, Elladan followed. "I meant what I said." He didn't see the point in waiting for his father to start the conversation. Waiting only made things worse.

"I know you did," the elf lord replied matter of factly, opening the weapons bin. He dropped the swords with a dull clatter and closed the lid. "I am just trying to figure out what your motivations are."

Elladan paused in the middle of coiling ropes. His small brow furrowed. "What?" he asked.

Elrond shrugged and sighed, easing himself onto the grass. He gestured for his son to join him. "Faegon may have deserved more than you gave him."

"He does," Elladan replied bitterly, pulling at the grass on the floor.

"How did you know it was your punishment to give?"

The young half-elf opened his mouth to reply, and then paused. Was it his job to deal out punishment? "I... didn't, I didn't think of that. I was just so angry..." Elladan chewed his lip uncertainly, pulling a blade of grass to pieces.

Elrond nodded calmly. "I am not mad at you."

"But I broke my promise..." Elladan was beyond shocked. How could he not be mad at him?

"Yes. However, I am more worried about why. I should have explained this to you, and made it clear, and I am sorry I didn't. Faegon may be a pain, and Mandos himself may never be able to deal with him. But... you should not feel it is your responsibility to put him in his place. Judgment is not yours to make, and is a far more dangerous weapon than a sword."

Elladan seemed to consider this, looking firmly at the floor. He gritted his teeth. "But if I don't defend El... or tell him he is being mean, then who will?" he asked.

Elrond took his hands, interrupting his fiddling with the grass. "There is a big difference in dealing out judgment, and kindly pointing out where someone went wrong. To deal out judgment is to take the world into your hands, and smash it. To call out someone's wrongs, with the intention of helping them, is something entirely different. Just make sure you are blameless when you do so, or your words will be taken no differently. If I were to punch Faegon and tell him all he had done wrong, and yet, show no love or understanding, then why would I be any better than him? When he confronts you, it would be better to ignore him – even if it is the hardest thing you will ever do – or reply with kind words. Or simply find an adult. Faegon has no power over you unless you let him. How he responds to these actions is out of your control. Does that make sense?"

Elladan nodded slowly, swallowing down a knot in his throat. He winced. "Yes, adar... I have been trying, but it never seems to work. He just keeps finding ways to get to me." The older twin sniffled, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Elrond's expression softened. "All you can do is just try again, and know you have done your best and that you did the right thing. Staying away from him is your best option." The Lord of Imladris watched as his son tried to stifle a sob. Once again, he pulled him into a hug, embracing him tightly as he began to cry. Elrond felt his heart break. No child should ever have to go through this, he thought.

"I r-really am sorry... F-for everything," he forced the words out, taking shuddering breaths in between.

His father stroked his head comfortingly. "Yes, I know. I am just glad you understand. I forgive you, ion nín." He pulled the child away to face him. His oldest son looked oddly dignified, even when he was crying. "Would you like to start over?"

Elladan nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice to form words. "Your punishment still stands, as a reminder of what you did wrong. But now you know how to fix it, and that is what I expect you to do. You will be helping Erestor, and I clean the fields after class for the next few weeks. And when Glorfindel and Faron get back, you'll do it with them. Not to mention there are a few saddles and bridles that need polishing. I am not mad at you; I only want you to learn." Elladan shrugged wordlessly, smiling slightly. "Our promise still stands, except I want you to practice avoiding him if you can. And if you are confronted, then I want you to remember what I said. Deal?"

"Deal," Elladan agreed, voice strained. "I love you, ada..."

"I love you too," Elrond said embracing his son once more.

It wasn't until later in the day that the two made their way back home. And when they did, Elladan seemed more determined. He wasn't sure if he could even complete such things, but he would try. For his father. And this time, he wouldn't fail.

* * *

Faron paused, backtracking to his shelter behind a tree. Back pressed against the bark, he discreetly peeked around the trunk and jerked back. "Glorfindel... I think I found what we're looking for..." the captain whispered, chancing another look into the clearing.

They had been out there for two weeks, doing nothing but tracking, hoping they would draw closer to their prey. Now it seemed, they had run right into it. A whole encampment. Lines of carts and horses were set up near the tree lines, hidden by thick bushes and underbrush. And on the carts, were built in cages – large ones at that. The dark-haired elf narrowed his eyes, watching for any movement. He paled. Stuffed so full, to the point where there was barely any movement, he almost didn't see them: humans. Women, children, and men crammed into giant cells locked away. It was easy to see what they were used for – slaves.

Suddenly, Glorfindel came up behind him. Faron whirled around, instincts causing his actions to be nearly silent. The golden-haired elf offered a small smile, hands flying up innocently.

"Glorfindel... those are slave traders," Faron said disbelievingly, voice low.

Glorfindel nodded, expression grim. "We need to get a better look at their numbers. Figure out if we can take them," the Gondolin elf replied voice barely above a whisper. He crept forward, ducking easily beside a cart. The slaves inside stirred. "They don't look like very many. Two people for each wagon maybe."

"Three actually," Faron interrupted, settling down beside him. Long grass and vines hid their presence, to the point where even the slaves couldn't tell whether there was someone there. The most they could see was rustling grass. Humans called it elven sorcery. Faron called it camouflage. "There are six wagons... How did they get through so easily this close to Rivendell?"

Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak but froze. Someone was approaching.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

To the Guest reviewer who was wondering why Faegon is so mean. Unfortunately, he is going to be like this the whole story. You are correct in that there is a reason, but it will not be discovered in this story. For that, you will need to read Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth story Beneath the Storm which is Faegon's main story. This is just a side story. I hope you continue reading this though.

* * *

Erestor handed the young elf his training sword, adjusting his grip for good measure. Faegon quirked an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. "Can you perform sequence five please, using position one?" It was the same drill Elrond had made them do earlier, and Faegon was getting rather tired of doing the same thing repeatedly. He sighed not too quietly wanting to make it known he was not so happy at having to be stuck here with Elrond's advisor and rolling his eyes he stepped forward, bringing the wooden blade up over his head, and then down into a backhand. He stepped forward, committing his feet and ending with a stab.

Erestor nodded a small smile tugging at his lips. "That was good; you have talent. Do it again." The adviser watched as he performed it once more. "Again."

Faegon looked up at him, green eyes narrowing. "Is there a point to any of this? Aren't you supposed to be pointing out my errors?" he asked irritation evident in his voice. Why was he even out here? He had better things to do than to be stuck here with Erestor babysitting him.

Erestor shrugged, stepping forward and angling the child's sword differently. "I would... but you're not doing badly. There's not much to correct." He paused in thought, smiling. Now came the test on how long he could hold such posture, while his movements were still precise. The scholar motioned for him to continue, and the session went on for a few minutes. After a while, Faegon's movements became fatigued, as he initially thought they would. He once again pushed Faegon's blade upwards and indicated the correct position to stand in. The elfling shifted, face reddening. He performed the drill three more times, each with Erestor correcting him. Once they had completed that, the dark-haired elfling silent with frustration, they moved on.

"Perform drills twenty and twenty-one," Erestor ordered not taking his eyes off his clipboard.

Faegon chewed his lip. "Captain Glorfindel only taught us those right before he left. He says we don't have to continue with them till he gets back," the boy replied, turning to face the scholar. His bias still stood, and he wasn't completely sure the elf was qualified to be teaching him, former warrior, or not. Even with the example, they were shown in class, he still doubted.

"Very well." Erestor flipped through the drills, looking at each of them. "Drill seven and eight then." Faegon spared the older elf an odd look but obeyed. It was evident he was frustrated that Lord Elrond suddenly decided he needed tutoring. If anyone needed coaching, it was the twins, not him. The young elf stepped forward into position three, left foot in front, and the other to the left; heels turned out. He swung his sword into an overhand block, stepping forward and lunging at an imaginary foe. His mind immediately changed gears, and he performed drill eight, falling into the same stance, but instead moving his blade into a series of short slashes and blocks. He looked at Erestor, raising both eyebrows. "Satisfied, are we done now?" Faegon said crudely.

Erestor sighed softly feeling a headache beginning to form. Oh, how he wished he was finished. Troubled or not this elfling was starting to wear on his patience and that was something Erestor prided himself on. Usually, it would take both the twins working together to wear him down, but in less than an hour, Faegon had succeeded in that area. "Not quiet Faegon, we still need to practice the rest of the drills."

Faegon growled and bit his tongue to keep from getting into trouble. Taunting the twins was one thing, but Erestor was another. Glorfindel would make sure he was severely punished, and his father would also not be too pleased, and that was one person he did not want to face.

As Erestor was correcting him throughout the course, he decided to start asking him questions. "So Faegon, what do you like to do for fun?"

Faegon nearly tripped when he heard Erestor ask that. Correcting himself, he turned and gawked at him like he had just asked him to hang out. "What is it to you what I do for fun? Since when did a scholar care what others did? Isn't it your job to just read and write up the reports Lord Elrond requests?"

Erestor smiled clenching his jaw slightly. Valar give me the strength I need not to throttle this ungrateful brat and remind me to thank Elrond for giving me the job to mentor him, Erestor thought to himself. "I might be a scholar, but I also have a life outside of reading and writing reports as you so eloquently put it. So, if you won't tell me then perhaps you can tell me about your mother?"

This was the last straw. Faegon was here to learn how to swing a sword and work on his techniques, not make small talk and not to discuss his family. Dropping the training sword, he turned and glared at Erestor his eyes flashing angrily. "I will not talk about my personal life, and I will most certainly not discuss my mother or any other member of my family. Is that clear? Now if we are done I am leaving."

Erestor made a note on his clipboard and exhaled quietly. "Very well Faegon, we are finished here. Put the training sword away, and you may begin your chores in the barracks that Lord Elrond wanted you to do. I will be by shortly to check on your progress, and if you have not done it correctly, I will make you do it over."

Faegon muttered under his breath and threw the sword in with the others before he stomped off to go and work on the barracks. If he had to work privately with this advisor again, it would be too soon. Meanwhile, Erestor shook his head softly as he watched from the corner of his eyes, Faegon angrily storm off. Such a sad and angry child, he said sympathetically to himself.

* * *

The next morning found the students waiting patiently – or not so patiently for some – as they waited for the next training session to begin.

"Glorfindel said a few weeks ago; we would be learning to spar by this time. Is that what today's lesson is?" Elladan asked curiously, attempting to peek over at his father's papers.

Elrond smiled, nodding at his sons and showing them the sheet. "It is indeed. Which is why Erestor –" the advisor looked up "– is going to be helping me make an example of the rules of sparring." He set the sheaf of papers down with a weight and unsheathed his sword. He shrugged, it had been so long since he had used it. Yet, the familiar weight was already bringing back his instincts.

Erestor straightened, slightly bemused. He hadn't expected to be called out. He didn't even know they were giving an example. It wasn't on the guide sheets. The elf unsheathed his sword as well, falling into a defense position.

"The first thing you need to know when sparring is when to stop."

"Isn't that obvious?" Leston asked.

Elrond nodded several times, considering it. "Yes, it is now, but in the heat of battle, some tend to forget why they are there. I have seen many friends injured because a partner was too rough in a sparring tournament. And although you should give it your all, and try your best, you are still novices. I can't have a child – two children – who don't know how to use sword hacking away at each other. So, if we were in a competition now, and I called for a pause, you need to stop. This also follows along the lines of listening to orders and carrying them out. So, when I say stop, stop." He paused, watching the children closely. A buzz of chatter died away. "Added to that, we will also only be sparring in drills. One will perform an offensive drill, and the other will defend. You will not go into free sparring until you graduate. Do I make myself clear?" They nodded. Elrond smiled, facing Erestor.

"Drill thirteen?" he asked his friend. Erestor shrugged. And Elrond struck out, starting the spar off with an overhead blow. Erestor blocked it just in time, shoving both their blades to the ground, and giving him enough time to free his and move. The scholar jumped to the side, going off books by instinct. Elrond sighed. He guessed they weren't exactly drilling anymore. The elf lord lunged forward, striking at his friend's side and using Erestor's block to give himself a window – right to a kill spot. Erestor weaved around the blade and jumped, feeling his lord's sword swish right under his feet. He landed, raising his weapon to parry a strike aimed for his neck. The two stepped back, and Elrond nodded. It was one thing to give an example, another to immerse themselves in a real spar. They did have teaching to do after all.

When they finished, Elrond called the students to attention and began paring them up. Once they had all been paired they awaited further instructions.

Erestor watched them and looked at Elrond. "I would have won," he murmured. Elrond raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.

"Really? Because... I was beating you," Elrond smirked.

"No, you weren't." Erestor peered at the page Elrond was referencing off and rolled his eyes. "They're doing drills one through fifteen?"

He nodded. "They will get more practice with exercise number five, and I am hoping it will show them how it can be useful. Particularly in a battle," Elrond replied softly, stepping away from his friend. He stood in front of the elflings.

"Well, congratulate yourselves; you've made it to the sparring level." The elfling's buzzed in excitement, talking to their partners, up until Erestor hushed them. Even though the scholar wasn't technically a warrior anymore, he hadn't failed to earn most of the elfling's respect, especially in such a short time. As for himself, he was due the respect. He was their lord. It went unsaid. "You all know drills one through fifteen?" They nodded. "Well, today's lesson, before you will be able to advance to free sparring next year, will be drill sparring. You will perform the exercises, the only difference being you will have a partner."

"But then how will we do the drill, when both of us are doing the same thing?" one of the twins asked, and Elrond noted it was the one with Elladan – the older one.

"Excellent question, Radhron," he said, recalling the name. Unlike his sons, Radhron and Raithon had a subtle difference. Elladan and Elrohir were virtually the same in appearance unless you paid close attention. The older twin nodded with a smile.

"The trick to this is, one of you will be on defense. While one performs the drill, the other will be parrying and blocking his movements. Once you have enough practice, I will expect you to do one through fifteen in rapid succession –" Radhron looked at Elladan in uncertainty "– which is why we will be focusing on this subject every single morning for the next two weeks. By then, I think you will have it. And then maybe Glorfindel will let you have a competition like the older elves." They both relaxed, grinning. "So, let's get started."

Encouraged by Elrond's natural vision of the future, the elfling scurried to places. It may or may not have been a good thing to tell them. Glorfindel certainly wouldn't have made their graduation look that easy. But Elrond had decided a few easy words wouldn't hurt their motivation. At least not today. Closest to the tree, Elrohir looked at Raithon, shrugging his small shoulders.

"Do you want to go first?" he asked, swinging his wooden sword. The other twin shrugged back.

"Sure." The two carefully assumed position one – the one they were taught to be ideal for sparring. Or fighting. Raithon brought the wooden blade to the side, and Elrohir raised his own in a backhand block. The wooden swords clanked together, the movements feeling smooth to their joints. Elrohir grinned, and Raithon switched to an overhead blow. Elrohir raised his arm to parry it. The last step to drill one, was for the offender to draw his sword back and change angles, going for the legs, and then rapidly switching to a stab. Raithon did it perfectly, albeit slowly. Across the yard, Elladan had gone first, and Radhron jumped to avoid the leg blow. For a seasoned warrior, it would have worked and looked graceful and smooth. For a three-foot child, it looked rather awkward. Raithon cracked a grin. They moved on to drill two.

Elrond smiled as he heard the laughter of his sons from a close distance. It made him proud to watch his children grow and blossom into warriors, and the best part was he was able to be a part of the training even if it was only for a short time. As he watched the two sets of twins for a little while longer noticing Erestor correcting them as needed his attention turned to Faegon and Leston.

Elrond sighed as he recalled the conversation Erestor had with him last night. The private tutoring had not gone well at all. When Erestor returned, he looked as if he wanted to throttle someone. Elrond asked how it went and Erestor through gritted teeth explained and threatened if he ever had to be alone with Faegon again, he would not promise to strangle him elfling or not. Elrond knew Faegon had a troubled past and it was apparent that no amount of tutoring or mentoring would help him. With sad eyes, he silently watched the two practice their sparring.

Faegon had naturally been first. It was only natural. And he and Leston were doing quick work out of the drills. While the others chatted, and discussed their moves, enjoying themselves, Faegon was serious. Even if Leston had wanted to talk, he wouldn't have been able to. The brown-haired elf only spoke when he wanted to, which meant when he had a jibe to make. Or if he wanted something. They were already on drill three. Faegon began with a stab, and Leston parried it – just barely. The older elfling then came with a rapid overhead strike, and down to an underhand, and then a backhand. That was three, finished. Leston sighed and performed it as well, though not as fast as his peer. And immediately they moved on to four.

"So Faegon," Leston started as he blocked another of Faegon's swings "how did it go with Erestor last night?"

Faegon scowled as he made another attack. "What is it to you, how do you think it went?"

Leston had parried another move before they switched roles. "No reason. Just trying to make small talk that is all."

Blocking Leston's stab, Faegon growled in frustration. What was it with everyone trying to make small talk with him? "Well, I don't want to talk about it okay. If you want to speak, you can tell me why you were so friendly with the twins at the river that day!"

Leston nearly tripped over his words. "Why shouldn't I be friendly? They have done nothing to get on my bad side. I might not be close friends with them, but that doesn't mean I am going to go out of my way to be mean and uncivil. What do you have against them anyway?"

Leston knew he made the wrong choice for no sooner had the words left his mouth then Faegon took his sword and with all his strength brought it down on Leston's sword arm causing him to drop his sword. "Ouch! What in Eru's name is wrong with you?!" Leston screamed out holding his now bleeding arm tight.

Seeing what happened, Elrond immediately ran over to Leston. "Faegon!" Elrond boomed causing the others to stop sparring and watch what was going on. "You are to go to my office this instance, and you will remain there until I have finished here with Leston. Until further notice, you are banned from training, and I will be talking to your father about this. Now go!"

Faegon felt tears well up and before they could fall he ran off the training grounds towards Elrond's office. Voices could be heard murmuring, and Elrond looked at Erestor. "Erestor will you please take over the class while I take Leston to the healing ward?"

Erestor nodded. "Alright everyone back to sparring. We still have fifteen more minutes."

The students resumed sparring, but Elladan watched from the corner of his eye as his father took Leston to the healing ward. He didn't know exactly what happened, but he had a feeling it had to do with him and his brother.

* * *

Faron and Glorfindel heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and as quickly as they could, they hid under the wagon not daring to breathe for fear of being caught. From underneath the relative safety of the wagons, the two elf lords managed to get a look at the slave traders. Glorfindel gasped silently and nudged Faron with his mind. _"Faron, look at the slavers. They are Easterlings!"_

Sure enough, when Faron got a peek, he saw them, and Glorfindel was right: there surveying the area were two tall, dark clothed men with straight black hair, dark eyes, and sallow skin. When the Easterlings could not discover the source of the disturbance, they smacked the cage in annoyance and left.

As soon as they were gone Glorfindel and Faron sighed in relief and emerged. "Glorfindel, we must get these people out of here and get them to Elrond. Some of them are in need of medical treatment," Faron whispered urgently. And he was right, several of the slaves – mainly the men – had large gashes and bruises. Some of the others were visibly malnourished and dehydrated.

Glorfindel nodded and narrowed his eyes. "You are right Faron. But we can't let the traders go. We must discover where they have their headquarters and find out if there are more slaves. The only way to do that is to capture the slavers and take them back to Rivendell. So tonight, as they are sleeping or eating, we attack them."

Faron nodded in agreement. "Tonight then." When they were in agreement, they left and went back to their hiding place to await the cover of darkness.

As night approached the two elves silently emerged from their hiding place and made their way slowly towards the camp. Faron taking a closer look noticed the slave traders were busy either eating or sleeping and they would be able to take them down without a problem. When he reported to Glorfindel his findings, the Balrog Slayer smiled. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I will ever be," Faron replied casually grabbing his sword.

"Good, then let's go."

As the two slipped towards the camp, they noticed only two of the six slave traders were awake. "This should be easy," Glorfindel whispered. Then ever so quietly and with the stealth of an elf they snuck up behind the two guards who were awake and held their daggers to their throats. "One word and we will slit your throats," Glorfindel whispered dangerously.

The two now scared Easterlings nodded quietly and held their hands up in surrender. "Now move all your weapons and then sit next to your comrades," Faron ordered them while he took the keys to the cages from the guards.

The Easterlings did as they were ordered and when they had sat down the others had awoken. "What is going on here?" one of the now fully awake guards asked. When he saw the two elves, he went for his sword but noticed their weapons were nowhere to be found.

"Looking for these?" Faron asked pointing to the weapons by his feet. "Well I am afraid where you are going you won't need weapons. Now get up, all of you and head over to the cages. And don't even think of trying to escape or try anything funny or you will find my sword in your gut."

Knowing they were defeated, they did as they were told and walked towards the cages. When they stopped, Faron handed the keys to one of the guards and told him to unlock the cage doors. The guard glared at the elves but did as they were told. When all the cages were opened, and the slaves were freed, Glorfindel and Faron told the Easterlings to get in the cages.

"We will not get in," the head Easterling responded almost challenging Glorfindel.

"You will get in, or you will meet your fate here Easterling," Glorfindel hissed while raising his bow and aimed an arrow right at his head.

The lead Easterling gave the order to get in, and the six slavers got in the cages. When the doors were locked, Glorfindel looked at Faron and smiled. "See, what did I say? Easy."

Faron laughed. "Now what?"

"Now we head back towards Rivendell." Looking at the now free slaves, he smiled softly. "You are now free. If you want, you can come with us to Rivendell and receive food and treatment, and we will do all we can to get you back home."

The slaves who were at first afraid talked amongst themselves and agreed to go with them. Ever so carefully Glorfindel and Faron made sure the more severe of the wounded or frail were mended to before they made their way slowly back towards Rivendell. This would be a very long trek, and they knew they needed to get back soon if they were to further aide these innocent beings and put an end to any more people being the next victims.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

"Ow!"

"I am so sorry," Elrond murmured, pulling one hand away from the child's arm. Leston shrugged and fought to keep from cringing, holding out his wrist once more. The injury was not as severe as initially thought; however, it also was sufficiently damaged.

Faegon had a mean swing and a bad temper. Earlier, Elrond had taken Erestor's words into serious consideration when they had thought tutoring would not help. He had almost agreed. The child was stubborn, yet, even now, it seemed the young elf needed it – he needed someone. The thought brought Elrond to consider the elfling's father. He didn't know much about them, except that Faegon was an only child. He also knew Faegon's mother had died, though he didn't know how. The thoughts only brought more questions, and they would remain unanswered – for now, at least.

The elf lord nodded and grabbed a splint off the bedside table, smiling. He lined it up with the damaged bone and secured it soundly. "How does that feel?" he asked concerned. He knew it was still probably painful, but there was not much he could do about that.

Leston considered the question carefully, flexing his hand and wincing. "Better... I guess," he answered truthfully. Actually, the bone throbbed, and he had to fight not to voice his pain. Elrond stood and moved to a small kitchen area, sifting through the cabinets. He pulled out three different herbs and boiled water. Within a few minutes, he came back with a steaming cup. Leston grimaced at the sight of the herbal concoction.

Elrond smirked. "Have you ever had painkillers before?" he asked, setting the mug beside him.

Leston looked up and scrunched his nose, nodding meekly. "My mother made them for me when I fell from a tree and broke my arm–" he held up his bandaged arm– "the same one. They're nasty."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at that and smiled. Very blunt. A child that likes to get to the point of things. Now I see why he didn't get along with Faegon, he thought.

"You have apparently not tried mine." The half-elf took the cup and held it out, raising both eyebrows in an expression that made Leston want to laugh. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the older elf just seemed so insistent.

Looking at the cup with distrustful gray eyes, the blond elf took the handle and sniffed the contents. Then he looked back at Elrond, peering over the edge of the glass. "I don't want to."

"If you want the pain to stop, yes," Elrond replied smoothly. This was nothing new to him. After all, he had two very stubborn, very independent twin sons.

Leston seemed to weigh the costs of the situation, sniffing the liquid once more. After a moment, he shrugged and sipped the fluid. Immediately, he cringed and glanced up at his lord with betrayal in his eyes. "You lied, this is disgusting," the young elf said, forcing himself to take another sip. He shuddered.

Elrond laughed and shook his head. "Leston, when there are two evils, is it not correct to choose the lesser one?"

"What?" Leston asked confused at what Elrond was trying to get at.

The half-elf sighed, looking at the ceiling and trying to figure out if it was worth explaining. "Just drink the draught."

* * *

The sun was sinking behind the horizon, and from previous calculations, they had six hours of daylight left – enough time to make it back to Rivendell. Glorfindel peered at the sun through the foliage and shrugged, blue eyes intuitive. They didn't have a chance to rest, and they might as well keep going. He patted the shoulder of a brown horse beside him, encouraging it to continue walking. Asfaloth was at his other side, enjoying what would be considered a leisurely walk. Indeed, with the people in tow, they weren't moving very fast. So, both Faron's horse and Glorfindel's were relaxed and free, following their owners willingly.

As for the animals pulling the carts; they were tired, but the two elves didn't push them nearly as hard as the traders had. It would be a stressful few hours' home, and they would no doubt be exhausted by the time they arrived.

Faron was at the back, conversing quietly with a group of former slaves. They had apparently not seen many elves, and now that there were two among them, the people were more than curious. The captain almost looked uncomfortable, and Glorfindel smiled. It was one thing to talk to a group of humans for a few minutes and enjoy their company; it was another to spend endless hours being swamped by their questions. Glorfindel was almost tempted to call it a night, then, thinking of their schedule, he pressed on. The two would be switching positions in a few hours anyways. In the cart beside him, he heard two traders having a whispered conversation.

It was evident they held animosity towards the two elves who had quickly taken them down. And now that he thought about it, he realized it was very easy – almost too easy. Obviously, there weren't many traders in the first place, and coming on them when they were sleeping was a stroke of luck. So, the only reason that came to mind was there was more to this than expected. Were the headquarters close? Were they expecting help? Were these traders simply planning an attempt to free themselves – which wouldn't work?

Glorfindel shook his golden head. He thought too much. One slave trader shot him a deadly glare. The Balrog-slayer rolled his eyes.

"If you two keep this up much longer, you'll force me to take you out of that cage and have you whipped. Then I'll have to hang you from a tree by your fingertips, left in nothing but your underwear." The golden-haired elf smiled at them, and they eyed him warily as if trying to decide if he was bluffing. The look he gave them confirmed he wasn't. Immediately, the two closed their mouths and grumbled, the noise making the Noldo want to whack them. By the Valar, he had just seriously threatened them, and they had the gall to complain? From the back, Faron heard him, and the captain was smirking.

The two shared a look. No one was aware of Glorfindel or Faron's status. No one was mindful of the fact that Glorfindel could be very violent if he wanted, or that he had come back from the dead. They weren't aware of just how willing Faron was to follow through with a threat. They had no idea that the mere mercy he had given was less than they deserved. The funniest thing was the simple fact that these traders had no idea who they were messing with and one slip from them would result in a world of pain.

Putting one of the older, yet stronger slaves in charge of the watch, Faron left his post and came up beside Glorfindel. "The sick are going downhill, Glor. We should rest," he said seriously, and Glorfindel knew it wasn't only because he felt like tearing his ears off. The blond Noldo thought for a moment and glanced around. He had learned to ignore the rank scent of sick and wounded a while ago. Coughs and moans emitted from the group around him and his face fell.

"I wish we could Faron, but they need a healer, not rest. The sooner we get to Rivendell the better. We've already lost a few–" He looked to where a family was crying– "We can't lose anymore."

Faron sighed rather loudly and shrugged in agreement. He slowed his pace and fell back to his original spot. And so, they walked – they walked for hours. It wasn't until the dim light of twilight that they entered Rivendell. The men and women gasped in awe, and from the back of the group, Glorfindel heard the slave traders murmur in what could have been shock. He smirked, what were they thinking? That Rivendell wouldn't be this gorgeous? He shook his blond head and called up to Faron:

"Run ahead and tell Lord Elrond! Organize a group of healers to get down here, and get the guards and the stable hands!" These horses need as much help as the humans do, he thought sadly to himself.

Faron nodded tiredly and darted off, leaving the large group of refugees to fill the courtyard. A few moments later, Elrond and Erestor came rushing out of doors, and Glorfindel grinned. Erestor had a book of formidable size with him, as always – he must have been reading. The two came immediately to face him.

"Is everyone alright?" Elrond asked, gray eyes scanning their group.

Glorfindel smiled. "Tired, but in one piece. There are some who need medical attention immediately," he nodded towards one of the cages, "we caught our slave traders." Then lowering his voice, he said, "I think an interrogation is needed. The capturing was too easy. I think there may be something up."

Elrond nodded, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. A flood of elves came in – stable hands and healers – the guards following shortly after. The Lord of Imladris would have a boat load of things to get done that night: including finding a suitable residence for the slaves, planning and following through with the accommodations for the traders, and answer millions of questions. He already looked exhausted.

As everyone was led out of the courtyard, Glorfindel yawned, feeling his adrenaline leave. The exhaustion swamped him, and he ached from being away so long. The golden-haired elf blinked, he needed sleep _._ But before he could retire, Elrond laid a hand on his shoulder. Erestor looked between them and seemed to hide a wince and swiftly left.

"There are some things you need to know – about one of your students," he said slowly. The Balrog Slayer was tired and probably ill-tempered. It would be a mistake to tell him too quickly, yet, he feared if he didn't tell him now, there would not be another chance – not for a while. Glorfindel's heart sank, and Elrond could see the dreaded expression. "You are not to go and deal with it tonight, is that clear?" he stated.

Glorfindel, slightly confused, nodded slowly. He didn't think he would like what was said next and so Elrond told him. It took a while, but he explained the whole thing. Everything that had occurred since the Gondolin elf had left. Glorfindel's face burned red. Elrond wasn't sure if it was embarrassment that one of his students would act like this, or if it was because he was angry – likely both. Glorfindel ran a hand over his face and let out a loud breath. He threw up his hands and strode away. Elrond was about to go after him.

"I know, my lord," Glorfindel called back stiffly. "I am going to bed."

* * *

Glorfindel paced. Class had just ended, and though he was glad to see how his students were coming along, he was irked to hear what had happened. Now he paced angrily in front of a bored looking Faegon. The silence was heavy – so heavy, that despite the young elf's look of nonchalance, he could feel the rage coming off the Balrog Slayer – it was scary. After a long minute of pacing, Glorfindel finally turned towards him. The elf's face was cold and blank, his eyes burning with a blue flame.

"What were you thinking?" he hissed, the sound sending a shiver down the adolescent's spine. Glorfindel was bristling and held his rage in by a hair. Indeed, the words were soft, but even an idiot could see the anger hid beneath it.

Faegon shrugged, albeit nervously. "They were asking for it."

"You hurt a fellow warrior! If that were a real sword, he would be armless!" Glorfindel took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands, holding back a groan. "I don't know what is worse; the fact you don't use weapons seriously, or you had the gall to lose your temper in a spar! The whole time I've been gone, you've managed to get in trouble with Elrond – your lord, and your ruler – you managed to break all the rules and regulations of a warrior in training, and you've injured another child! What do I have to do to make sure you don't hurt one of my students because of your attitude?"

Faegon shrugged, feeling the threads of dread as the ancient elf's rage grew. He almost flinched, yet, despite Glorfindel's wrathful words, he didn't move an inch. He simply stayed put, hands resting easily at his side. Faegon didn't know why, but he had expected the older elf to hit him, yet, it seemed Glorfindel was used to channeling his anger when reprimanding a warrior. There was only so much one could do when a child had acted out like he did. "You cannot come to practice until I say so; however, your tutoring will continue."

"With that sad excuse for a warrior?" Faegon snapped.

Glorfindel turned on him, blue eyes glinting dangerously. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and his jaw clenched as if keeping himself from saying something. "You better thank the Valar I am not teaching you personally, child. It will be a cold day in the void before you will earn my respect," he growled. As much as Glorfindel wanted to flip out and rant on, he knew it would accomplish nothing. Faegon stepped back. "You need to learn respect, you need to learn how to hold your tongue, and you need to learn reserve. Erestor is best equipped to help." There was a moment of silence, Glorfindel never once breaking eye contact. Faegon tried to hold his gaze, but for some reason – he didn't know why – he couldn't. Glorfindel sighed. "Go. I am speaking to your father tonight."

Faegon nodded once, and unless Glorfindel's eyesight was fading, the young elf looked almost sullen. He hadn't looked that way until Glorfindel mentioned speaking to his father. Had he been too hard on the elfling? Probably, yet, anger slowly cooling, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad – not at the moment.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon when Glorfindel arrived at the home he was told belonged to Faegon. The sky was dim as he dismounted Asfaloth, patting the horse lovingly. The elf smoothed out his appearance and slowly approached the house, effortlessly gliding up the front steps. It was a nice setup; he had to admit. The house was small, yet lavish. Its walls were made of stone which had been whitewashed and built right next to the foot of a rocky hill, surrounded by a thick wall of trees – a thick wall of trees that secretly held another small house, camouflaged into the foliage. Well, it wasn't exactly a house; it was a one room hideout. And from the window of that hideout, a pair of green eyes peeked carefully out.

Once Glorfindel entered his home, Faegon climbed swiftly out of his tree house and clambered down the trunk. He hit the ground soundlessly and padded forward, ignoring the magnificent white stallion that stood patiently, ears flickering as he passed. The brown-haired ellon rolled his eyes and walked carefully up the stairs, hand gliding just above the smooth rail. Like a ghost – he had much practice entering his house unseen – he slipped in and maneuvered to hide behind the flight of stairs leading to the upper level of the house. From that small nook between the railing and the wall, he listened as his captain and father talked.

It wasn't as if they would see him – indeed, his father hardly ever found his hiding spots. And as much as people thought he was good at making himself heard, he was even better at hiding. Not because his father was cruel to him, and not because he was timid. No, those were not the reasons. Hiding simply meant he wouldn't be bothered. Hiding meant his father wouldn't come looking for him or at least wouldn't find him. It meant he could be alone, without his adar there to put on an act that everything was well, and that he loved him – he hated that. Hiding also meant he was in reality. In a life which seemed so full of fake outs and tricks, hiding was the best thing he could do. It meant something was real, even if it was lonely.

Curling up into the shadows, his view of the scene obscured by the wall, the young elf sat and listened, feeling a twinge of fear. He bit his lip and almost winced. After this night, there would be no end to the lectures, the punishments. What was left of his relationship with his father would be gone. And for what? A stupid injury? Leston shouldn't have been asking questions. Leston should have minded his own business. It wasn't his fault, and he wasn't sorry.

"He did what?" his father asked, shock in his voice. Faegon almost snorted and rolled his eyes. Like his father didn't know he was capable of that!

Glorfindel nodded several times. "Farael, as a former warrior yourself, I don't have to stress the dangers of another recruit acting like this." Farael nodded gravely, leaning on the table. "I don't know what your relationship is like, and I am not one to pry. However, something needs to be done, and we are trying everything. He is just not listening, and that can be dangerous. I am not even sure if I can graduate him from this class, no matter how good of a warrior he is."

Faegon raised an eyebrow, unsure of how he should feel. However, as always, his anger was the first emotion to surface and take control. Not graduate? How is that fair,he thought angrily, fists clenching. The boy's face burned red, and he nearly shot up and out of his hiding place.

Farael sighed heavily and looked to the heavens. "I will try... Faegon has always been something of a problem child–" Faegon scoffed aloud. "–I fear it is because I have had to raise him alone. After his mother had died, I tried to get a nanny... it didn't work. He takes after his mother, you know. Probably why I cannot understand him." The Noldo shrugged sadly, running a hand through hair that sported the same shade of deep, brown his son had.

Glorfindel, refraining from showing outward emotion, only nodded solemnly. The Gondolin elf looked around for a moment and then straightened. "It has been a pleasure talking to you; I only wish it could be under better circumstances. But before I leave, I have to stress that if he does not pull together by the end of the summer, I won't be able to graduate him. Not until he shows a level of maturity I can trust."

Farael nodded in agreement, and Glorfindel turned to leave, passing Faegon with no knowledge that he was even there. The door closed and Faegon pushed himself deeper into the shadowy crevice. 

Pull my act together,the elfling thought with distaste, biting his lip to keep from screaming, they have no idea what they are talking about.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

Lord Elrond sighed heavily as he sat down in his large study. He had been up almost all night tending to the sick and injured slaves. Unfortunately, four of them had been too far gone to save, and so Elrond had ordered a few of his healers to wrap them up and put them in a makeshift grave until they could discover where they were from so they could send the bodies home to their loved ones for proper burial. As far as the other slaves were concerned, the majority of them would be okay – at least physically anyway, emotionally they would need time to heal.

A knock came on his door, and when he looked up, he noticed Glorfindel standing by. He had been up all night himself interrogating the slave traders and looked as tired as he was. "So, did you discover where they are from or who their leader is?"

Glorfindel nodded tiredly. "It took a while, but I did eventually get it out of them."

"I hope you didn't have to kill anyone to get the information out of them," Elrond smirked as he offered a drink to Glorfindel.

Laughing, he took the drink and sat down across from his longtime friend. "No, mellon, everyone is still alive."

Elrond rested his head in his hand. "So, what did you find out?"

Glorfindel took a sip of his wine and set the glass down. "I learned that they work for a warlord named Calen and he resides in Rhûn. In about a week, another shipment of slaves should be arriving at the same place we picked up these people where another group of Easterlings will be taking them back to Calen."

Lifting his head up, Elrond looked at his friend concerned. "Where are they coming from though?"

Glorfindel looked up from the ground. "They are down from Carn Dûm and heading to Duneland. My guess is they are getting the slaves from around there, and then they return to this Calen in Rhûn to cash in on them."

Standing up, Elrond began to pace the floor. If there was one thing he could not stand being was slaving. "We must put a stop to this. We cannot allow this atrocious act to continue. We will wait a few days and then I will send you and Faron out to intercept them. From there you will be going to Rhûn and put a stop to this… Calen's slave business. As for these slave traders, I will have someone else take them back to where they came from and have the town deal with them."

Glorfindel groaned, this was not going to be easy or fun, but he knew he had to do it. But first, he had to ask Elrond for permission to go on a camping trip with his class. "As you wish Elrond, but I need to ask you for leave to take my class on a camping trip for a day. I wanted to train them in the arts of tracking."

Elrond nodded his head in agreement. "That sounds like a good idea. Very well, you have my permission. Just be careful. I take it Faegon will not be going?"

Glorfindel frowned at the mention of Faegon. "No, not this time. He is still on suspension and unfortunately until Leston's arm is healed he will not be going either."

"That is too bad; I know Leston and Faegon will be disappointed."

"Well Faegon will get over it sooner or later, but I cannot have someone who is unstable going out into the wild… as for Leston, I will make it up to him later. Now I must get ready to announce the camping trip."

Glorfindel got to his feet and headed to the door, as he made to leave he turned with a huge smirk on his face. "Oh, and Elrond, if you wouldn't mind would you please have Erestor continue with his mentoring to Faegon? I thought perhaps he could practice sparring with him."

Elrond tried to suppress a laugh but failed. "You realize Erestor will not be happy about this right?"

Glorfindel smiled even bigger. "I know." Glorfindel then left the room leaving Elrond to be the one to tell poor Erestor he was yet again assigned to be alone with whom he had affectionately come to dub _the spawn of Morgoth_.

* * *

The relatively large class walked on. Glorfindel had prohibited the use of horses only because it was easier to teach that way and they would all be able to interact evenly without the bulk of the animals to hinder them. Once they had entered the forest, Faron began to teach them how to move without being seen while blending into their surroundings thus becoming practically undetectable. It was really about moving with the wind or the sway of a tree, following nature and becoming part of it, following the shadows or chasing the wind.

Once he felt they were grasping the concept, Glorfindel taught them a special way to pad across the leaves and uneven ground without making a sound. Therefore, most of the trip was spent in complete silence. Before they left, he had told them any noise would be reprimanded and counted against them. They had to learn to work together and if one person made a single sound when they returned all of them would have to do double the push-ups and running thus turning the hike into a competition. And without Faegon on that trip, it went rather smoothly. Anytime someone would break a twig, or bump into a fellow trainee, or crunch the leaves, Glorfindel would stop everyone and make the loud one move to the back. Whoever was in the front was considered the most successful. Glorfindel was confident camping in this manner would prepare the warriors for their first patrol, and make them efficient scavengers. Not to mention, they would learn to hunt and work together to keep a campsite.

Glorfindel paused in the middle of a stride, shifting to peer behind him. His students stood in a straight line, confused as to why they stopped. He smiled at them, an expression they had come to dread. Elladan stood directly behind him and was stock still, peering up curiously.

"Well, so far, you have all done well. Now for something different." He pointed to a plant with delicate green stalks and small white flowers. "Elrohir, tell me about that plant."

Elrohir flinched in surprise, feeling all eyes on him. He cleared his throat. "It's _athelas_ …"

"That is a good guess, but wrong." Silently, using the gait he had taught the elflings – a unique walking pattern made for stealth – he marched up to it. "If you were to put this on a wound, it would go septic. You'd be dealing with something worse than usual." The Gondolin elf picked a piece and showed it to them. "The leaves are not the right shape, and they have small spines. This, children, is called Bragdel. I don't need to remind you it was known for causing nightmarish hallucinations right before killing the recipient. Never put this on a wound."

"Now," the golden-haired elf said thoughtfully, scanning their surroundings, "tell me about the forest around you. Any dangers? Any food sources?"

"Well… there's a berry bush over there, they are not poisonous, but it would be easy to confuse it with another toxic fruit. So, it would not be a good idea to eat it unless you knew what you were looking for," Radhron said softly, walking over to the bush. Glorfindel sent him a disapproving look, noticing the child had slipped back into his regular walk. However, the elfling seemed to have done his homework.

"Very good Radhron. Anyone else?"

Elrohir grinned and knelt by small indentations in the leafy ground. "There is a run here… most likely rabbit." Glorfindel nodded and shrugged. They were doing well for their first day, though they had missed a lot.

Elladan pointed to a rocky incline, gaining Faron's attention. "If you set up your camp against that hill, you would have significant shelter from the wind, and you would not have to worry about something sneaking up behind you."

"Wait, why do we need to know all this? Won't you teach it to us on the second day?" Raithon asked, shrugging his small pack on his shoulders.

Faron smiled. "Well, you want to know your resources and any dangers that may lie ahead. You will be picking out your campsite," the captain explained with a smirk, setting his pack down. "And if you do a good job, Glorfindel and I might just spare you a boring lecture over the campfire and tell you stories instead."

There was a spark of chatter among the children, and they quickly searched the area, reporting to their captains on any potential dangers or advantages. At the end of the day, they had found almost everything.

* * *

Erestor crossed his arms across his chest. Trying to hide his dissatisfaction of having to babysit once again this beastly elfling, he forced a smile. "Very well… today, since you seem to be doing so well with your drills, I thought we would spar."

Faegon raised an eyebrow and scoffed, leaning on his wooden training sword. While his class was out on a camping trip, he was stuck here taking lessons from a lowly scholar. It was a poor attempt to distract him, though he was thankful Glorfindel wasn't around. Every time he was near the Noldo, he felt exposed or weak. The Gondolin elf had a way to make one feel so little when he wanted. "Are you sure you won't hurt yourself? I hear even wooden swords are dangerous for the inexperienced. You might get a splinter," Faegon said, sighing loudly.

Erestor sent him a sudden glare but refrained from any other action. "I am sorry, it wasn't a suggestion, child. It was a command," Erestor retorted setting his notes on the grass with a paper weight and picking up a wooden blade. "Drill sparring, drills one through fifteen in rapid succession. Your classmates might be off to learn how to survive in a forest, but you are here because of childish actions, and you will learn something."

"Not sure how much I can learn from an elf who fights with a delicate feather pen," the chocolate haired ellon snorted as he raised his sword lazily.

Erestor's expression flattened. "Yes, I guess it is true we scholars wage most of our wars with a pen and paper." Erestor let a smile light his features, "but one of our most common fortes is sparring with words. And trust me little one, that is a war you will lose."

Faegon seemed to weigh the costs and frowned. He knew he was good with words, but he wasn't sure if fighting with Erestor was something he could do – not at the moment anyways. So, hefting the training weapon, he lapsed into a defense position. Erestor blocked it quickly. Even now, the raven-haired elf knew it would be a long day.

* * *

Faron and Glorfindel were just getting situated around the now roaring campfire. The elflings were already seated comfortably and were excited to hear stories instead of lectures for a change. Faron cleared his throat. "Alright children, may we have your attention please?"

The students hushed and looked up at Faron quizzically. When Faron was sure, they were all paying attention he smiled at Glorfindel who nodded. "Glorfindel and I have an announcement to make. In about three weeks' time, you guys will be involved in a midterm competition." The students began to buzz excitedly amongst themselves. When Faron got their attention again, he continued, "this contest will test you on how well you have matured as warriors. It is like a test of sorts only you will be sorted into groups of four. Three members on each team. Each team will be identified by the color of their tunics. The events will be as followed: sparring, sword drilling, and archery. Now as for the archery, you will need to make your bows and arrows to bring, and there you will be tested to see how fast you can string the bow and fire the arrows _making sure_ you are hitting your targets accurately. You will also be being judged at how well you work together in your teams and at the end the top team will win a trophy. Afterward, there will be a picnic and celebration so make sure to have your family bring food for everyone to eat."

The elflings all started in on questions about uniforms and bow making and who would be on what team. Glorfindel chuckled. "First, the bow and arrow carving will be done with your parents. If you cannot find the time to make one come and see either Faron or me and we will work something out. Secondly, we have here the list of teams and what colors you will have. Now as I call out your names you will raise your hands and Faron will give you the sample colors for you to take home to your parents, so they know what colors your uniforms will be."

Glorfindel took out his roster and began to call out the names. "Sarndir, Candir and Ronir."

The three lifted up their hands, and Faron gave them two pieces of cloths. "You three will be on team number one, and your colors are brown and indigo. Next, we have Ellavorn, Glindir, and Barhador. You are team number two, and your colors are pale blue and white. Moving on we have Leston, who is not here due to an injury, Radhron, and Raithon. You are team number three, and your colors are crimson and black."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at one another, and their faces fell. That only left them with Faegon, and they knew nothing good of this would come. Looking up at Glorfindel's face he smiled sympathetically.

"Which leaves us with Elladan, Elrohir and yes, I am afraid Faegon. You are team number four, and your colors are green and cream. Now the only reason you three are together is that Faron and I think it will do you good to work together. We will break the news later to him."

When they were finished being assigned teams Glindir raised his hand. "Yes, Glindir?" Faron asked.

"What if we cannot afford the material to make the uniforms?"

Faron smiled. "Then come see us, and we will make sure you get it. This is supposed to be fun, and if for whatever reason you are unable to come up with the weapons or the uniforms, we will find a way to get them to you."

When they had answered all the questions the rest of the evening was spent singing songs and telling stories until well into the early morning hours. The next day was spent reviewing what they had learned the previous day. It was nearly evening when they arrived home, and the twins were excited to be back and could hardly wait to tell their parents the news.

"Nana, ada! We have great news to tell you!" both twins exclaimed as they embraced their parents.

"Well, what is it?" Celebrían asked happy to see that her sons enjoyed themselves.

"We learned how to track animals, identify plants, how to walk quietly unseen or heard and we were able to find a suitable campsite where we sang songs and were told stories by Captain Faron and Glorfindel!" Elrohir exclaimed excitedly.

"Yeah and we are going to have a midterm competition in three weeks, and we have to make our bows, arrows, and uniforms before the contest. We are all on teams of three each and have to have matching tunics. Will you help us ada with the bows and arrows?" Elladan asked his father as he handed his mother the cloth samples of what color their uniform was supposed to be.

Elrond smiled and hugged his sons. "Of course, I will help you. We will start first thing in the morning."

Both twins grinned. They couldn't wait to start making their first bow and arrows.

Celebrían looked down at her sons. "So, these are the colors your uniforms must be?"

Elladan nodded. "Yes, nana."

"I take it you and Elrohir are on the same team. Who is the third member then?" Elrond asked hoping beyond hope it wasn't who he thought it was.

Elladan frowned confirming his father's worst fears. "Faegon, ada. Faron and Glorfindel believe that it will be good for us to work together."

Celebrían looked at her husband trying to hide her disappointment. "Well we will talk about that later son, right now let us get you washed up and unpacked, and we will eat in our rooms tonight as a family. I want to hear all about your adventure.

The twins laughed and hugged their parents once again before they all went inside. Elrond would have a talk with Glorfindel about Faegon being on the same team as his son. Perhaps he could convince him to put him on another team. It wasn't that he hated the elfling, but the last thing he wanted was for trouble to break out. Sighing, he followed his sons and wife back inside to spend the rest of the evening with his family.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

Elladan heaved upwards, lifting the heavy sack up and over his head, arms shaking. But right when he completed the task, Glorfindel told him to repeat the exercise again, and Elladan groaned, lowering the burden to the ground and then lifting it up again. Would it ever end? Sweat dripped down his face and his neck, leaking into his eyes with a stinging sensation. The urge to let go of the sack and rub his eyes was overwhelming, and he grunted with resistance. He wanted to complete it. Everyone else was pressing on, and he wouldn't let some salt water be his bane.

"Come on!" Glorfindel shouted from the middle of the circle, running around with his sack and shaking it in the students' faces. "You brought this upon yourselves! Toughen up!"

Elladan lifted above his head and down to his knees once more and frowned at his captain. Glorfindel yelled at them a lot in the past, but it had never been this... brutal. But when he saw the golden-haired elf smile he relaxed. It was an act – thank the Valar.

There had been a significant amount of noise on the camping trip. It was met with a glare and a prominent gesture at the back of the group. They had also been warned of what would happen when they got back – and Glorfindel hadn't been joking. The extra workouts were a curse from Morgoth. Classes had been lengthened to four hours – they were usually two – and most of that was technique and exercises – boring and tiring.

"The next time you step in that forest with a group, you will not make as much noise," Faron added with a laugh, and the children nodded.

It wasn't exactly a punishment. They would be going out on scouting and camping trips often in the next few years, and the children had to know that unnecessary noise would not be tolerated, and the workouts would do them a lot of good and provide a warrior's discipline – they would need that.

From his perch in the Training Tree – Elladan had no clue why he was up there – Faron called the count again, increasing its speed. "Up! Over! Down!"

The children increased their speed, and Elladan thought his arms might pop off; they burned with an intensity he thought impossible. He wasn't even sure how he was holding up – one often found out how much they could endure when unable to stop – and then Glorfindel raised a hand. Elladan thought he might scream. As required he lowered the bag to the floor and stepped back. His arms were numb – if Elladan were to close his eyes he was sure he'd forget they were there – and his legs shook. If Elladan had not been required to get down and do push-ups, he was sure he'd have collapsed.

There was a little break, and every child hit the floor, lifting their weight with unfeeling arms. It was a bizarre sensation. You felt as if you could go on forever, yet your mind and body screamed not to. If Elladan remembered correctly, it was called a Warrior's High –where the man or woman worked so hard their muscles became numb to exhaustion.

"Come on! This last set and then you can have a break!" Faron yelled from the tree, smiling slightly. "Think of the water! The snacks!"

The elfling's groaned. One or two muttered something incoherent. Glorfindel grinned and got down with them, counting down loudly from fifty. He could tell they were on the verge of collapse, small arms shaking as they suffered to complete the last few push-ups. He wouldn't let them stop. "Come on! Ten more!"

Elladan heaved upwards with a grunt, breath shallow as his body tingled with effort. Elrohir was beside him, though he hadn't noticed till then. The younger twin looked disheveled, exhausted and miserable. Elladan wondered if that was how he looked? The thought was so shocking to his tired mind he didn't notice when Glorfindel called for lunch, and Faron swung down from the tree. Some got up and trudged towards their packs, stumbling in the process while others collapsed on the ground and did nothing. Elladan was one of those. His face hit the light grass, and he heaved a tired gasp, body shuddering. After lunch, they had archery. He wasn't sure he could do it. Lifting tired eyes Elladan saw Raithon slowly getting to his feet and kicking his brother. Radhron merely groaned and didn't move.

"If you starve and die during archery I am not taking your body home," the younger twin said dryly and turned on his heel. He raced for the Training Tree, joined shortly by Elrohir and the two grabbed their lunches and ran back. Elladan was tired – exhausted to be exact. But the moment he saw his little brother with food and water his mind was changed, and the older twin sluggishly pushed himself into a sitting position.

Leston and a few others were seated beneath the Tree, eating in tired silence. Those who didn't care to get up had their lunches and water brought to them and sat in the field. The two sets of twins were the culprits. Raithon plopped himself down beside Elladan and Elrohir, opening his lunch tin. Radhron still slumped on the ground with his face in the grass, unmoving.

"Did he fall asleep?" Elrohir asked slowly, biting into a sandwich. Raithon was devouring a tin of pudding and looked over his shoulder. His brow furrowed.

"Quite possibly. Better help him before Glorfindel sees him." Raithon got up with his spoon still in his mouth and plodded over, grabbing his brother's hands and dragging him across the grass. When he got back to Elladan and Elrohir, he was panting and dropped his brother by his lunch. "Radhron, if you don't eat now it will be a long two hours of archery before you get food." Radhron looked up with a little glare. And then after a moment of thought, he sat up, grumbling something and grabbing his pudding tin.

Elladan smirked. "Stay up too late?"

Radhron shrugged and gulped down a flask of water. The older twin practically inhaled the food.

"Five minutes!" Glorfindel called behind a mouthful of berries. The captain took a swig of water and began setting up targets. Faron was by the tree, getting children to finish their lunches while also finishing his. It occurred to Elladan the two probably had lots of experience in double tasking – eating while working. How did they do it?

* * *

Elladan practically fell on the floor. His pack was in his hand, and his bow was slung over his shoulder. That didn't stop him from collapsing onto the carpet of the sitting room. Elrond was seated in a straight-backed chair, a book held in one hand with different supplies littering the floor below him. The elf lord winced. It wasn't a good bow, not compared to others. It was a simple training bow that would be used until midterm. But the crack it made on the floor caused Elrond to start. Elladan groaned, and Elrohir was not far behind him – though the younger twin did decide to collapse in a chair while taking his bow and pack off. Celebrían looked up from her sewing and grinned.

"How was practice?" she asked idly, setting the needle and fabric aside. Elladan groaned in response. "I hear Faegon will be officially back in practice this afternoon?" Another groan. Elrond couldn't hold back a laugh. Elladan flopped over onto his back and somehow managed to wriggle out of his restraints, sitting up with a yawn. The two looked a mess. Ratty hair, ruffled clothes and the look of pure exhaustion. Elrond almost felt bad.

"If the two of you aren't too terribly tired..." the elf lord gestured to the woodworking supplies below him, "I want to teach you how to make your weapons."

The two perked up, or as much as they could. Elrond didn't doubt their fingers were numb, along with their legs and arms. Faron hadn't been particularly merciful in archery, or so he'd heard. Elrond had also considered the fact his sons were on a team with Faegon. It hadn't worked the last few times. But Faegon had grown – at least a little – and so had his sons. It was worth a try. The three would need to get along anyways for the future, and he was hoping with maturity would come a professional tolerance. It was what they would be taught in this circumstance.

"Bow making?" Elrohir asked, standing eagerly.

Elrond nodded. "Captain Faron will be holding a practice session this afternoon, and I want the two of you to have new bows. I would give you my practice bows... but those were mysteriously lost when moving to Rivendell..." He sent a look at Celebrían. She blushed and looked down at her sewing. It was well known among Elrond and his close friends Celebrían had accidentally lost them. It was an amusing story when told in whole.

Elladan emerged from his idle position on the floor and scrambled over to the supplies, unaware of the message the two adults shared. "What do we do?" he asked and held up a large – slightly bent – stick.

Elrond gently took it from him. "I will show you." Elrond gave them each a piece of timber and began to explain. He had to try rather hard to keep their attention. The two were exhausted. They had to get a nap before the next practice session at least. Celebrían smiled lovingly and stood, making a quiet exit with all her sewing supplies. "– After that, you carve out a nook for the string to be caught –" Elrond began chipping at the wood. "– and then you have a bow. Now we just have to string it."

Elladan grinned and held up his bow, scarcely bigger than him. It came up to his cheek, and he fingered it gently with pride. Elrohir beamed from ear to ear. The pale wood was smooth and gorgeous, though plain. "To string it you must bend it the opposite way, so it recurves, and the slip loops on the wood. The bow is small but packs a lot of power. As long as you get the right leverage, it should be rather easy to string." The two nodded, and Elladan yawned.

Elrond smiled. "I think you both should get cleaned up and then rest. I'll take your bows and hold them safely for you," he said and stood, looking at an old clock on the wall. It was only four hours after noon. The practice session was at six and dinner was at seven. The elf-lord unstrung them and swept up the wood shavings. "It's best your mother doesn't know how much of a mess we made."

Elladan and Elrohir both laughed. But sleep was close and most important to them. They trudged off to get an hour nap in.

* * *

Faegon sat solemnly at his kitchen table; green eyes stuck on the pale wood as he thought. It was an elegant table, one his father had made himself. It almost took his mind off the events of the day – almost. Another dull day. Another problem created. The young elf traced a finger on the wood and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs. He had heard mothers usually berated their sons for such things, but he wouldn't know. Faegon smiled. It gave him an excuse to do it. An excuse to rebel and do something to keep his sanity. Sometimes he thought it was the only thing he had left.

At least he'd be back in training for the practice session that day. He would be able to compete in the midterm and do something with his time. The thought made him frown, and Faegon settled back into his original position, pushing the chair out with a screech. He wondered what team he would be on. Hopefully one without annoying twins. Faegon rolled his eyes, sliding off the wooden seat and hitting the floor silently.

He made for the door. The house was dreary, silent and cold, and he had no idea where his father might be. Another motivation to get out and walk around. It was summer after all. The outside was warm and sunny with birds chirping and the river flowing. He preferred nature. Faegon opened the door and slipped out, the hot afternoon sun burning his eyes and blurring his vision. So, it wasn't a surprise when he took another step, he bumped into something – someone.

"Ah, Faegon," his father said distractedly, taking a step back down the stairs. Farael smiled at his son, hands folded behind his back and Faegon raised an eyebrow. He didn't have time for this.

"Yes?" Faegon tried to slip past, but his father grabbed his arm.

"Faegon, I have a gift." The chocolate haired elfling snorted, and Farael frowned. "Stop and listen. This is important."

"Important to whom?"

Finding no better way to answer, Farael pulled out a small bow – recurve from the look of it. It was an excellent weapon, though only a training bow. It looked old but also new, and Faegon was irked to find his curiosity rising. "Important to you. This was mine when I was your age." Faegon looked at the weapon and said nothing, averting his eyes to the floor in what could have been boredom. After a moment of consideration, Farael knelt at eye level with his son. He put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I know it's not the same. I know you're angry and upset. But that gives you no right to disrespect your leaders. I am giving this to you because you need a bow for the midterm. You can keep it if you behave." Farael placed the bow in his small hands and stood. Faegon unconsciously felt the wood and the engravings, thinking it could be fit for a lord. Yet, the boy's expression didn't change or show any thought and he once again tried to squeeze past. Farael stopped him once more.

"I won't be coming to the competition because of work," Farael said softly, and Faegon thought he saw him wince. The elfling responded coldly, as he was apt to do. It was his default. There were too many reasons why.

"And why would I care?" Farael winced again but seemed to avoid the statement. Turning back to the house, Farael shrugged.

"Captain Glorfindel wanted you to know you are on a team with the twin sons of Elrond. I expect you to behave." His father opened the door and slipped in without a single glance back.

"Or what!" Faegon screamed, hands clenching around the wood of the bow.

* * *

The sun was sinking slowly through the sky, blazing and rippling as its rays were slowly blocked. The day was waning, and Elladan looked up, squinting as he judged the time. The practice session began in ten minutes, give or take a few. Telling time was something he was gradually getting better at. Bending over to the light grass, Elladan grabbed his unstrung bow and arrows and held them under his arm. Elrohir must have seen the action because he had grabbed his also.

Seeming to appear out of nowhere, Radhron and Raithon were directly behind them. Their partner was arrogant and maybe not the easiest to get along with, but at least Leston had a kind side – even if he was ambitious. The four looked around the field, cooler than normal due to the late hour. Glorfindel wasn't there. They had been notified by Erestor – who was going to be one of the judges – he had business to attend to with Lord Elrond. Elladan didn't have to guess what they were up to as the slave traders weren't exactly a secret.

"Attention!" Faron bellowed, using his hands as a sound projector. Every elfling in the clearing went still. "This practice session is purely to give you a small sample of what will be happening in the midterm. We will start with the assembly of bows since that is something we haven't looked at too closely." The captain gestured to a line of supplies on the floor, separated into four piles for the four groups.

"Get with your groups and stand at your color!" Elladan shifted uneasily. Even from afar he could tell Faegon was in a bad mood. The elfling had been sitting in the Training Tree on the lowest branch for the last hour instead of socializing and strategizing with his team. He wore a scowl and his hands restricted around a dark wooden bow till they were white. There was more than one sign in his posture which said, 'stay away,' and though Elladan wasn't one for backing away in fear, he didn't want any more confrontations. Elrohir seemed to think the same thing and looked at his brother in question.

"Come on El; we have to try at least. Maybe he won't be that bad." What was he saying?

Elladan shook his head and nearly laughed. Yeah right. Wishful thinking, he scoffed to himself. 

The two met Faegon at their colors. The elfling glowered at them saying nothing, dropping his bow carelessly to the floor. Elrohir raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"First you will organize this pile of supplies. There are training knives and swords, blankets, rope, and posts. Organize them and then assemble your bow and fire at the targets."

"What does this have to do with constructing bows – the pile of junk I mean," Leston asked pointedly, and Elladan saw Faron look to the heavens.

"You need to learn to double task. In a scouting mission, you will have to do a lot. New recruits get distracted easily. So, best to start training for that now. And the assembling of bows will give you something complicated to do." Faron demonstrated and in a flash strung his bow and fired, hitting the center of the target. "In the midterm, you will need to organize a pile of 'junk' twice this size, and you will need to organize it differently each time." The children groaned collectively, and Faron smiled. Elladan was sure he was getting that sadistic grin from Glorfindel – or was it the other way around?

After the first few times, Elladan was confident he was seeing things. Every time he, Elrohir and Faegon organized the pile and strung their bows, it seemed they missed an object or misplaced something. Yet, every time he went over the supplies he accounted for everything. It went unsaid they weren't the most coordinated group in the class. Not when Faegon was as dour and snappy as he was then. Surprisingly he hadn't jibed them yet. Elladan had expected it, but it never came. At least not yet. Behind him, Elrohir scrambled for a training sword, and Faegon went for the rope. Their paths led them to collide, and both stumbled back with grunts or curses. Rubbing his head, Faegon sent a deadly glare in the youngest direction, and Elladan was sure he would explode, throw something or at least scream. His cheeks turned a bright red, but nothing came out. It was almost scarier than an outburst.

Elladan grabbed three training knives and tossed them in a stack, and the competition went on. Faegon was the first done and had his bow strung in an instant – Elladan had no idea how. But soon he had his ready to fire and so did Elrohir. They let go. Elrohir's was the most accurate and had hit one ring outside the middle. The other teams were still moving, and Elladan froze. Had they completed the task first? It was hard to believe, but after a moment of reflection, he realized they had. He breathed a sigh of relief. The whole time they had been only keeping up by a hair. Now they were ahead, by one task at least and Faron yelled again, the signal to keep going.

Elladan wouldn't have been able to remember the rest, only that he and Faegon had more than one knock together. The brown-haired elfling had not blown up, however, and Elladan wondered what had come over him. It wasn't until the dinner party that he found out.

"Excellent job today Elladan and Elrohir," Faron said with a grin and clapped them on the shoulders. Elrohir had been the reason they won archery if Elladan were truthful. His little brother was a natural, and it seemed even double tasking wouldn't distract him. And even though they hadn't won the practice session – it had been Leston's team – they had done remarkably well. Especially with the fact that Faegon had been with them. After Faron had finished congratulating the teams, he left to the other side of the dining room – what was considered the adult side – and began speaking to some novice warriors. Glorfindel was holding a glass of wine and was looking over Erestor's shoulder at a document, most likely asking stupid or purposefully annoying questions.

Elladan shrugged, sipping his hot tea and navigating around the crowds. Leston stood near the dessert table with a few of their classmates as they talked and laughed. Radhron and Raithon were among them, and Elladan grinned, approaching the hysterical group. Elrohir followed behind him, stuffing a roll in his mouth and looking around for what Elladan assumed was large cake. The door next to the dessert table opened, and a group of warriors entered – they must have heard about the food and party and came to crash it.

It was for the young soldiers before the midterm. After the midterm would be a picnic. The group of troops swarmed the table, and the twins had to weave through them to get to their location, occasionally bumping into one or two. Elladan was just behind Raithon, and he turned to weave between tables, arms swinging to the side. And it hit someone, hot liquid splashing on the recipient. Elladan's heart crawled into his throat, and he froze. He didn't know why he was so surprised, stuff like that happened all the time to him. Why was it such a big deal? A yelp of pain made him whirl around and face the victim – Faegon. Why was he not surprised?

Red face drenched in hot liquid, eyes blazing with rage while his hands clenched at his sides, Faegon didn't bother restraining himself anymore. Elladan took a cautious step back, and the other adolescent let go. "YOU LITTLE SPAWN!" he shouted, though his voice only caught the attention of a few. Radhron, Raithon, and Leston looked over. Whatever anger he had been feeling throughout the day must not have wanted to be restrained. Faegon shoved him in the chest, and Elladan staggered backward, barely managing to keep his balance. The older twin let his instincts take over, and he fell into a defense position. There was no way out of this now.

"What is wrong with you?" Elladan asked pointedly, shuffling back. His promise to his father echoed in his brain, but he dared not let his hands down. Faegon threw his arms out in anger.

"What is wrong with me?" he asked aghast. "You should know!"

"Faegon you're making no sense," Elladan said carefully. Elrohir had come to stand by his brother and the younger twins brow furrowed.

"Do you think because you're so royal and perfect you can just treat others like this? Is that what it is? Is your family so perfect you just have to rub it in everyone's face? You get all the attention; everyone loves you no matter what you do!" The older twin took a step back and coughed in confusion. Elrohir's lips pursed. Elladan would die to know what his brother was thinking.

"Faegon, that's not true," Elrohir said firmly, stepping forward. Elladan's hand shot out too late to his brother's shoulder in worry, and Faegon lunged, fist connecting with Elrohir's cheek. The force sent him flying backward, Faegon following up within seconds.

"HEY!" Elladan looked over, in the midst of stepping forward, cheeks burning red with rage. Leston strode up to Faegon and pushed him back. Elladan caught a hint of remorse in Leston's eyes, and he understood. The promise was still there... but how did Leston know about it? Elladan wasn't even sure how he knew that he knew it. It just felt... it felt like he did. "Just because you had a bad day doesn't mean you can take it out on others."

Faegon recovered quickly and folded his arms over his chest. "You have nothing to do with this, so why don't you go nurse your arm in the corner like the baby you are!" Leston looked shocked for a moment and composed himself surprisingly fast. His hands clenched into fists. At this point older elves had noticed the fight as well as some of the younger warriors – who for the record were doing absolutely nothing about the violence. Erestor and Glorfindel approached quickly. Elladan offered Elrohir his hand to Elrohir, and his brother took it with a small smile, using his free hand to hold his bruised cheek.

"Oh, my arm is doing well. It feels stronger than before. Can we test it?" Leston raised his fists, all former resolve gone. It seemed he wasn't interested in being civil anymore.

"Brave words for such a small elf fighting someone else's battle," Faegon snorted.

For the life of him, Elladan could not figure out why the elf was being this way. His words from earlier made him think, however. Glorfindel seemed to make it just in time. The ancient elf weaved between them and set his hands on their shoulders, nodding for Erestor to stay back. Faron nodded his head above the crowd, having just realized what had happened. Elladan stepped in front of Elrohir protectively, an unconscious instinct. It was his little brother, and even though he was okay at defending himself, it made no difference. Glorfindel looked at all four of them, deep blue eyes seeming scarier than ever. Without looking at the twins he spoke.

"Go to Faron. I need to talk to Leston." Elladan shivered at the tone, eying the Balrog Slayer nervously. Through his whole life, he had grown up with the elf, cheerful and fearless and funny; an elf who seemed never to see the dark side of things. But it was in times like this when Elladan saw the elf that had fought to the death with a demon. And it was terrifying. Glorfindel looked at Erestor as Faegon began to exit the room in a huff. Erestor nodded back and followed the child. Both scholar and warrior looked crestfallen. Watching as they disappeared, Elladan nodded meekly and turned around. How had this evening gone so wrong? One moment everything had gone well and the next the party was over. It had all happened so fast he wasn't quite sure he understood.

* * *

Glorfindel, Elrond, and Faron stood still in front of the cell door, looking into the small room with mirrored expressions of disgust. Glorfindel kicked the door lightly, just for the sake of kicking something. The day had gone so well. Elladan and Faegon hadn't fought once during the practice session, as he had heard. And now they were enemies.

He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace, muttering curses under his breath. Elrond looked up in surprise at the words, shocked his captain knew such things. It didn't help that they now still had more than enough frustrating little men to deal with. They had been too easy to catch, and now he knew why – because they hadn't been worried. These men had some sick sense of honor and loyalty to their cause. It made him shiver. They had known another – much larger – caravan was coming and hadn't worried about getting caught because they had been a distraction. A diversion they had fallen for. While they were dealing with a small band of Slavers, a group of ten carriages was making its way through the forest. How had they missed that?

"So now what?" Faron whispered in elvish, directing the question at Elrond.

The Lord of Imladris sighed. "We can't get to their location on time... unless the Rangers hold them up. That would require a swift messenger..."

Glorfindel perked up and stepped forward. "Send me! The closest Ranger camp next to the Slavers is a two-day ride. If I ride through the night, Asfaloth can make it in less than one. I'll send the message and be back before the competition – Valar willing. Then we can send reinforcements."

Elrond considered it for a moment, gray eyes looking at the ground thoughtfully. "You've already done so much... you've barely had a full week of recuperation."

"I can do it. If it means stopping this," he gestured to the Slave Traders. If they took away the slaves, they would take away all their money, and the operation would be over. "Then I will do it."

"Yes," Faron interrupted, holding a hand up, "but what do we do with them? We've been beating around the bush for two days."

Elrond nodded and glared at the men. "I'll have one of the lieutenants take a band of elves and escort them to a human settlement. There's enough evidence and reason for them to be dealt with... by imprisonment or execution." The men in the cells seemed to stir at the word, and Glorfindel sneered. The sick men deserved it as far as he was concerned. The golden-haired elf turned on his heel and grabbed his weapons, heading out of the room.

"If that's decided... then I will go immediately." It would be stressing, and he'd probably be too exhausted to do much when he got back, but it was worth it. He just prayed to the Valar Faron would find a way to make Elladan and Faegon get along.


	16. Author Note

I am just letting you guys know that I am not sure when I will be able to update again. I seem to have lost the passion for writing for whatever reason even though I absolutely love it. I have tried to get back into it but nothing seems to be working. Also, I am starting school on the 19th for the next 2 years at least so most of my time will have to be studying. But if any one can think of a way to help me get back into writing I would so greatly appreciate it. Thank you so much for your patience through all of this. You guys are the best.

Lin


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by both Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

I would like to thank Eldhoron for the use of Elorn and Daeruin.

* * *

Glorfindel walked into the barn, pushing the door open with his free hand while the other attempted to button his vest. A rush of warm, sweetly scented air hit him, and horses greeted the newcomer with whinnies and grunts, having the misconception breakfast had arrived. Sadly, it was too early for that. It was two in the morning – as the elf who had woken him up had stated. If he wished to make it back for the midterm, he would need to leave at this unholy hour. Even the stable hands hadn't awoken to take care of the animals. They wouldn't be there for a few hours yet, giving him plenty of time to be on his way before the morning feeding. That way he wouldn't disrupt the day's schedule.

Glorfindel yawned, his late-night talk with Faegon and the boy's father – not to mention Leston's parents and Elrond – caused him to have to live off three hours of sleep. But at least they had settled the matter. Leston was both punished and thanked, and Faegon was appropriately reprimanded – Glorfindel wondered if it would even work. Erestor had talked him down and punished him in writing a few essays and more tutoring time – which seemed to improve his skill. He would have to wait till he got back to see how they were doing.

Down the long barn aisle, a few horses poked their heads out, silhouetted by the early morning darkness. There were more than usual, Glorfindel noted as he searched for his tack and finished buttoning his leather riding vest. He selected the tack he needed such as a saddle to carry equipment like rations and weapons and his bag.

A few other animals stood contentedly in their stalls, and he knew they belonged to Lórien. The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had arrived late afternoon the previous day for the competition and a month or two with their grandchildren and daughter.

Glorfindel stuffed a roll in his mouth and grabbed a few apples from the treat barrel, stuffing two in his satchel and keeping one in his hand for Asfaloth. It was the only breakfast he could grab and still get some decent sleep.

When he reached Asfaloth, the horse whinnied in joy and nuzzled his shoulder with a velvety nose, blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. Glorfindel laughed, though it was short-lived. There would only be time for a quick brushing and Glorfindel grabbed the kit and selected a hard brush while scrambling to get some feed into his satchel for later. Who knew when they'd have some time to eat later, but if they did he wanted Asfaloth to have something a little more interesting than grass. Within a few minutes, he finished and saddled Asfaloth, hooking his gear in the correct places.

"Apple?" he asked, knowing the answer. Asfaloth snorted, pawing the ground and Glorfindel grinned. He handed the fruit over and mounted, waiting as the animal made quick work of the food and huffed in delight, causing other horses to neigh in jealousy. The Balrog Slayer shrugged. "Sorry..." With that, he reined Asfaloth sideways and urged him into a canter, and they took off past the gates and into the Valley.

* * *

Leston sat in his bedroom, perched on his writing desk and looked out the window. It was hardly six in the morning, the sun well into rising and he had been awoken not by his father or mother, but by laughing. Scrambling out of his bed and across his room he leaped onto his desk to investigate. It was only then he realized what was happening. His jaw dropped, and green eyes widened. So many people on his front porch: thirty feet below him sat a lot of ellith. Five of them were lined up in chairs – some were sitting on the balustrade – and each of them holding swatches of fabric with plates of food at their elbows. The fabric was colored, Leston realized with a start. Were they sewing the team colors? Why were they sewing them here? His cheeks burned red. Two days before the competition and his mother had invited everyone to his house to make shirts? Leston scrambled off his desk and ran a hand through his uncombed hair. Why did they have to do it at his house? Why did they have to bother him?

As he got ready for the day of practice the fact that so many people were at his house bothered him. Perhaps it was just because of his rather introverted personality, but he suddenly felt angry and stressed, a worm of despair climbing in his throat. The last thing he wanted was people invading his space, as he felt so many times when his mother invited people over.

Leston ran a brush carelessly through his hair – leaving it frizzy and untamed – and grabbed his training weapons, clothes tousled as he ran downstairs and into the kitchen. He wasn't prepared for the events that followed. Running down the stairs fast enough to scare a deer – he needed breakfast and to get out of the house as soon as possible – Leston tripped, setting his foot too far up on a step and tumbling the rest of the way down. The force sent him careening into the table with a crash and a yelp. After a moment of processing, Leston rolled over, dazed and aching.

Luckily, he thought, feeling his arms and legs, I don't think I am injured.

"Oh my," someone gasped and just from the voice he knew it wasn't his mother. His cheeks flamed red. Just wonderful, he thought _._ "Are you alright?" Leston scrambled to his feet, previously injured wrist aching dully. Luckily the only thing hurt was his pride... maybe he wasn't so lucky. He looked at the newcomer, and his jaw dropped. He didn't know how he recognized her – for the life of him he had never seen her before – but he immediately gawked. She was unmistakable with her long golden locks and an elvish glow that would light up a dark room.

"Lady Galadriel?" he asked and then mentally cursed. A stupid question. She smiled slightly in concern and Leston noticed a tunic in her hand. Was she sewing too? It amazed him. He didn't think she could sew. So why the Valar was she in his house? His mind screamed, walls immediately going up and he suddenly felt self-conscious.

"Yes, are you alright?" she asked again, and Leston's mother came running forward.

"What happened?"

"He fell down the stairs."

"Oh, my gosh!" His mother, tossing her blonde locks behind her, knelt in front of him. Leston felt like curling up and dying of embarrassment as she began to inspect him for injuries.

"I'm okay nana." He brushed her hands away, and his lips flattened into a thin line. "Why is she here?" he asked, his usual blunt attitude resurfacing. His mother's eyes widened in anger.

"Leston, that is no way to talk to the Lady of Lothlórien. Apologize right now," she snapped, standing after she knew he was alright. Leston's green eyes glinted with defiance, but he wilted slightly.

"It's alright," Galadriel insisted, laughing musically. "As long as his father is away for the day, is he not master of the house?" she asked with a grin. Leston's mom raised an eyebrow in surprise, unsure if the Lady of Light was joking. Leston fought not to say something. Galadriel gestured to a plate of eggs and bread. "Your mother made you breakfast." She looked at the sun and smiled. "You better eat, or you'll miss training. Glorfindel would have a cow," Galadriel whispered, and from her tone, Leston insisted the two knew each other well.

Not only do I have the twins' grandmother in my house, but she knows Glorfindel. Just wonderful. Did all mysterious legends know each other? he wondered.Slowly he consented, eyeing the two warily. His mother sent him a stern look, and he backed away to the table, sitting down. At that moment Celebrían walked in, laughing merrily while talking to another mother – Leston recognized her as Radhron and Raithon's mom. Celebrían was holding two other tunics the same color as the one Galadriel held. The two refilled a few glasses with fresh orange juice and Celebrían sent a smile towards Leston before they went outside once more. Why three tunics? They only need two for the twins, Leston thought as he began to eat and everyone came out to the porch again.

* * *

"Now today will be a bit different," Faron said evenly, his voice carrying across the field. "Captain Glorfindel isn't here, and we will not have much to do. Glorfindel and I agreed to let you guys have some rest until the midterm." The children brightened up, and Radhron raised an eager hand. "No Radhron, we will not be skipping the workout." The boy wilted in disappointment, and Faron smiled. "Today will be relaxing and challenging. We will have workouts, sparring, archery and drilling and then we will use the last hour to learn more in-depth hand-to-hand. How does that sound?" There were cheers and shouts of joy. Faegon even joined along. Hand-to-hand wasn't exactly taught to them like other skills. It was something they did for fun, and it was a pleasure to learn. To fight with no weapons was something he was good at and he knew it. It was one of his stronger points.

Faron raised a hand to stall their shouts. "But before we get started your parents have your team tunics." Faron looked at the sun. "They should be here."

As Faron mentioned it, Faegon felt his stomach twist in anger – anger at his father. Sure, he had received a bow from the older elf, but that didn't change anything. There was no, 'I'm proud of you son' or any congratulations. Only ridicule like always about his behavior. He was sure his father hadn't even made him a tunic – why would he? The elfling's eyes flashed with rage, and he huffed. He would have to make one himself before the competition.

Faegon watched a with resign as a group of ellith – why was it only the mothers? – came forward with neatly folded tunics. He was shocked to see the Lady Galadriel among them, standing in the back. Elladan and Elrohir must have noticed as well because they both shouted in joy and took off towards her and their mother. A flash of jealousy washed over him, and as the other elfling's ran towards their parents, he stayed put. Why were they so happy over a tunic? It was just a piece of fabric – colored fabric made by their parents. In love... Faegon shoved the thought out of his mind but found it came back. A piece of fabric he found no matter how hard he tried to put down, that he wanted it more and more – if not to have his father there than to save his pride. Faron noticed and frowned.

As the others received their tunics and tried them on, laughing and talking about the kind of wool used or the day ahead or plans for the afternoon – or even their mothers wishing them luck – his hands clenched at his sides. Some broke off to show their friends and others took them off and folded them neatly. As Elladan and Elrohir were busy talking on and on and finishing each other's sentences while they told their grandmother about their summer and the things they did, Celebrían broke off. Faegon frowned. Why would she do that? The beautiful elleth turned on her heel with another tunic – made of his team colors – and approached him. His heart jumped into his throat, and the elfling seriously considered running. Why on Middle Earth was she be walking up to him? He couldn't answer that, and she was now only a few feet away.

"Hello, Faegon," she said softly, smiling in a loving manner. The elleth unfolded the tunic with the team colors. "I noticed you don't have a tunic... and I made an extra. You're Elladan and Elrohir's size, here take it." Celebrían held the tunic out to him, and Faegon took a step back.

"Excuse me?" he asked, holding up his hands in surprise. Celebrían offered an innocent smile and gestured again for him to take it. Faegon realized what the gesture was and his pride hardened his heart. "No, I don't want it," he said firmly, holding his head high. Celebrían didn't seem phased.

"Are you sure? Do you already have one?" she asked, expression softening. Faegon hesitated and considered just lying. He had done it before, but for some reason, he didn't this time. He bit his lip.

"No, but I will make one," he decided and saw Celebrían's blue eyes glint in the early morning light.

"Oh... Are you sure? The midterm is almost here, and you don't have a tunic that matches your team's colors. And I have an extra here. It would be no problem if you took it. Think of it as a present," she insisted. Faegon took another step back.

"My lady, why are you giving me a present? I hate your sons and treat them awfully. There is no reason you should be so kind," Faegon said flatly, raising an eyebrow heatedly. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. Celebrían smiled once again and walked forward.

"I know you do. And I can't say I am happy with it... at all." She placed the tunic in his hands. "But... that gives me no reason to let you go without a team tunic." She stepped back, and Faegon felt a warm sensation he couldn't explain. She was so... motherly, not that he knew what that felt like. But he was sure if he did that was what it would be. "You don't have to wear it, Faegon. But keep it in case you do." With that Celebrían walked off towards her sons – who were remarkably still talking. Galadriel looked a little flustered, but she was grinning. Faegon fingered the soft fabric and watched her leave jaw clenching. He didn't know what to do. He looked around and saw Faron smiling. The captain nodded to him and then went back to his business. The ellon felt a knot tie in his throat and his heart clench. The only thing he could think or say or process was the fact she had given him something. A very kind gesture, one he wasn't sure he could handle. He only had one question. Was that how all mothers acted?

* * *

 _Morning of the Competition:_

Elladan and Elrohir were seated side by side at the breakfast table. The two were busy picking at their breakfast which consisted of lumpy oatmeal, soggy toast, and fresh fruit. The young warriors in training were too excited and nervous to eat actually. All around them the other inhabitants of Imladris and those who had traveled from neighboring realms to watch the competition were deep in conversation. Elladan and his younger brother could only pick up bits and pieces of the many conversations. Some were taking bets on who would win, and others were bragging about how far their son had come, but most the elves were just eager to go down to the training grounds and watch a friendly competition.

Across the table, the two were brought out of their stupor when they heard their father call them again. "Elladan, Elrohir! Did you two listen to a word I said?" he asked raising an eyebrow at them.

"What was that ada?" Elrohir asked putting down his fork. He would not be able to eat this morning. The knots in his stomach were making sure of that.

Elrond laughed as he repeated his sentence. "I asked if you and your brother were ready for your midterm competition? I know how hard you two have worked to get to this point."

Elladan tried to take a bite of his toast but like his brother found food would not agree with him. Setting it down he glanced at his brother before answering his father. "Well, we are as ready as we will be ada. To be honest, I don't know whether I am excited or scared. What if I forget the drills or trip and fall?" Elladan tried to hide the fear and doubt in his eyes, but he knew his father and mother could see right through.

Elrond looked at his wife for advice on how best to handle this. Celebrían smiled and reached over and took her son's hand in hers. "Oh ion-nín, don't you worry about any of that. I know that you and your brother will do great. Don't worry about remembering the steps. When you begin, it will all come to you."

Elrohir smiled as he began to feel more at ease. "Really, nana? You think so?" But before she could reassure him, his smile faded almost as quickly as it appeared. "But… but what if we lose?"

Just then the voice of Lord Celeborn joined in the conversation. "Oh, young one, this competition is not about winning, it is about having fun and doing your very best. If you try your very best and play fair, then you have already won."

Elrohir looked over and saw his grandfather Lord Celeborn sitting with Lady Galadriel. The two of them had come all the way from Lothlórien along with Haldir and his brothers just to see the young lords compete. "That is right young Elrohir," Galadriel said softly, a smile gently teasing her lips. "These competitions should never be about who is the best. It should always be about going out there and having fun."

"I believe your grandparents said it best ion-nín," Elrond replied smiling at his two sons. "No matter what happens, we are so proud of you. Now, why don't you two go clean up and get ready to go. We have to leave within the hour."

Feeling much better and more confident, the two leaped from their seats and hurriedly went to their rooms to finish getting ready. It was then Faron who had been listening to the conversation walked over quietly and sat where Elladan had been sitting a moment earlier. "My Lord Elrond?"

"Faron, what can I do for you? I thought you would be at the training yard setting up."

"I was about to leave, but I needed to tell you about a secret reward for the winning team Glorfindel, and I discussed."

Both Celebrían and Elrond exchanged curious glances. "You have piqued my curiosity Faron, what would this reward be?"

Faron squirmed in his chair slightly. He was not sure how Elrond and his wife would feel about this. "Well, we figured since we are training the children to be warriors and go on patrols it would be a good idea if they got some experience going on a practice patrol. So Glorfindel and I thought the winning team would go on a small excursion with Glorfindel, myself and eight other experienced warriors. We would still be within the borders of Imladris but also in an area where they would have to practice the skills they have learned. I assure you they would be perfectly safe."

Elrond was not sure how to respond. He knew Faron was right in that the trainees needed practice and exposure, but he was not sure about this. The novices usually did not go out on patrols until after they graduated and had a bit more experience. Sending young elflings who were barely fifty was something Elrond was not sure he was comfortable with. "I see; well, I wished you would have discussed this with me first Faron. I do understand the logic behind it but…"

Faron bowed his head. He knew Elrond would respond like this and he was within his rights to. After all, it was his responsibility to make sure all the inhabitants were safe and if something happened while the children were in someone else's care while on a practice patrol then Elrond would be held responsible. He was about to say he understood when Celebrían spoke up. "Elrond, why don't you let them go. If Faron and Glorfindel are both there then you know, they will be perfectly safe. Besides, they would never suggest something if they thought the children would be in danger."

Both Faron and Elrond stared at Celebrían. Of all the elves to agree with this, Celebrían was the last one they thought would. Seeing his wife give him that look, he knew it would be futile to argue with her so, sighing in defeat he nodded his approval. "Very well, if my wife feels okay with this then I suppose it will be alright."

Faron smiled his thanks to Elrond and Celebrían. "Thank you; I promise you they will be safe. Now if you will please excuse me I must get to the training grounds and oversee the setup. I will see you there." Bowing his head, he turned and left.

Celebrían smiled and turned to Elrond. "Speaking of getting prepared, I must go to the kitchen and pack a lunch for later. I will meet you at the front gates. Nana, would you like to come with me and help?"

Smiling sweetly, Galadriel took her daughter's hand. "I would love to iell-nín. Celeborn why don't you accompany Elrond and we will meet you?" Kissing her husband softly, the two ellith made their way to the kitchens.

After they had left for the kitchens, Elladan and Elrohir came running excitedly back to the dining halls wearing their tunics and carrying their bows and quiver of arrows. Seeing their grandmother and mother were not present, they looked at their father curious as to where they went. "Ada, where did nana and daernana go?"

"They went to the kitchens to gather some food for later. They will meet us shortly at the front gates. Are you two ready?"

Nodding the four of them eagerly made their way to the gates to wait for the ellith. When they arrived carrying three large baskets of food, several blankets, and drinks, the large family made their way to the training grounds.

* * *

When they got there, the sun had not yet appeared, but it was light enough that Elladan and Elrohir could see the training grounds had been transformed into a grand competing yard. There were streamers, and a huge sign that welcomed the spectators at the gate and in the field, was the area for the sparring and a few feet down was where the drilling would take place and to the side were the target boards where they would have to show off their archery skills.

Elladan began to get more excited as he took everything in. It seemed for the moment the jittery feeling he had earlier disappeared for the moment. He didn't even need to look at his brother or ask him how he felt for through their deep bond he could feel his brother's excitement as well. Finding a place to lay down the blankets and baskets the six of them sat down and watched as Faron sparred with a few older elves. Elladan couldn't wait until he was old enough to practice with real swords.

It wasn't too much longer until the other competitors began arriving with their families along with those who were coming to watch. Out of the corner of his eye, Elladan noticed Faegon had arrived, but he had come alone. He didn't need to ask Faegon to know by the look on his face his father was not coming. It was well known by most everyone his father was rarely was around for his son. Faegon had long ago stopped asking his father to do anything for he knew what the answer would be. Elladan couldn't help but feel sorry for him and wished he could do something but he knew Faegon would just put up his protective shield and start attacking him with vicious assaults.

When everyone had arrived, and took their seats, Faron called for all the contestants to come to the front. When Celebrían and Elrond wished their sons good luck, the two young warriors stepped up and stood next to Leston, Radhron, and Raithon. Faron smiled. "On behalf of Glorfindel and myself, I wish to thank you all for coming to this grand occasion. I want to let all the parents know how proud we are of your warriors in training. They have worked so hard and have improved tremendously. Just to give you an idea of what to expect, the first event will be sparring, followed by drilling and finally archery. The team with the most points, in the end, will win."

Faron was about to introduce the judges when he saw Erestor striding towards him a look of irritation on his face. Faron excused himself and approached Erestor. "Erestor, what is the matter? Where are Elorn and Daeruin?"

Taking a deep breath, Erestor calmly explained what had happened. "I am afraid we are going to need to find two replacement judges. Apparently, an hour ago, Elorn was shoeing his horse when it was spooked and kicked him in his shoulder breaking it. Eithon was in the process of setting it when Daeruin came rushing in panicky claiming his wife had gone into labor."

Faron groaned. Where was he going to find two new judges this quickly? Looking around he spotted Haldir. Whether he liked it or not he would have to be one. "Erestor, I need you to find a judge and within ten minutes."

Erestor gaped. "Ten minutes?! How am I supposed to do that?"

Faron smirked, "You are a brilliant elf. I know you can do it. When you find one just use your authoritative ability and coerce them into being one."

Erestor raised an eye as he watched Faron walk towards Haldir. He saw Haldir drop his jaw before being dragged away protesting. Erestor was in the middle of trying to think who he could find to be a judge when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Lindir sitting reading a book. Grinning, he speedily ran and grabbed Lindir causing him nearly to scream in fright. "Lindir don't argue or ask any questions. We are in need of a replacement judge, and you will have to do."

Lindir started to protest but one look from Erestor he closed his mouth and followed him to the judging booth where he was given a sympathetic look by Haldir. When all the judges were seated, Faron gave the order to have the games begin.

* * *

Faron marched in front of them, and his gray eyes noted their supplies. The sun had just come up, and the bright light just reached above the trees. "I am sure you all know what the first task will be, and not just because of the way the field is set up but because you have practiced hard for it." The elflings nodded. Elladan looked at the area again and saw a large ring made of cones – sparring.

Elladan felt a thrill of excitement. The competition was here. They were doing it. He saw Elrohir grin, and he clapped his little brother on the back, grinning as well. Suddenly there were murmurs in the crowd, and Elladan looked up – as well as his teammates – and peered across the field. Low and behold a tall golden-haired – disgruntled and rather sloppy – figure marched up the hill, followed by a few humans. Elladan recognized them as Rangers; heads held high and weather worn but powerful. He wanted to work alongside them when he was older.

Glorfindel barely had the energy to walk up the hill. He had been awake for far too long. "I am getting too old for this sort of thing," he thought out loud. Finding an empty spot where Lindir had been mere moments ago, he plopped himself down like a fish out of water and motioned for the Rangers to join him. Celebrían and her husband looked at him in shock. He knew he would have to explain himself in the end, but at the moment he was too tired to think about it. Looking up he saw Faron motion for him to join in and help him but Glorfindel only waved his hand. "Nah, I'm good! I think I'll just watch and… try and stay awake."

Faron rolled his eyes at the blond elf and went back to explain. "The sparring will go this way. One from Green/Cream will get in the ring with one from Crimson/Black and will spar in the first twenty drills. The winner moves on while the loser steps aside for the next interval and then someone from the next team steps in. It will go on like that until we have a finalist from each team and they will complete the drills twenty to thirty. When there are two left they will have a final battle on drills one to thirty. Whoever wins gets six points for their team, second gets five, third gets four, and fourth gets two. Am I clear?" he asked them.

There was a chorus of muttered and excited agreement, and Elladan jumped up and down. They would win this. He looked at Faegon, and the brown-haired ellon seemed more reserved than the others, clenching his hands around his father's bow. Faron gave the signal, and they split up to opposite sides of the ring. Faron held a piece of paper out and began to call names. "Elladan Elrondion and Leston Lhathronion. Please come to the ring." Elladan grinned in nervousness and snatched his wooden sword, feeling his stomach do flips. Leston flashed him a strange look – almost nervous. They were both rather evenly matched.

Elladan was perhaps better, but Faron had done a good job at matching them. It would get the more experienced elves dealt with. Elladan shuffled to one end of the ring and Leston took the other, holding his sword up at ready and lapsing into a defense position. Elladan raised his own, nodding in respect and stepping forward. The world seemed to slow as they came to face one another and he looked sideways, watching as his mother sat straighter in nervousness. He smiled, and his heart pounded gently, filling his ears in a heartbeat before the bell. They crossed blades, and he met Leston's eyes. There would be no mercy. And then the bell sounded.

Drill one! Elladan took offense before Leston had the chance and struck forward and then to the side, going as smoothly as he could. It was better to perform slowly and get everything right then to perform quickly and miss a step. Leston took his attacks with ease and held his ground, parrying each strike as expected. Elladan found it a little unfair the other knew exactly what he was going to do, yet, that was the point. Learn to surprise your adversary by the unexpected. Elladan jumped to the side – there was no rule against it – catching Leston off guard and jabbing him in the stomach. Faron marked a tally and yelled something about being careful, and Elladan found himself on drill seven. How had he done it so quickly? Leston's green eyes narrowed, and he parried an overhead strike and spun away, catching Elladan's surprise attack as easily as before. There were gasps from the crowd, and Elladan grinned with pleasure. At least their sparring wasn't too boring. Elladan pulled back and wavered on the barrier, waiting for Leston to approach. And he did. If Leston were on offense, he would have tried to get him to slip out of the fence. The only problem was he wasn't and the fact if he didn't block the move as expected, it would break the rules.

Elladan moved on and went for a leg strike. Leston jumped, dropping his sword to parry and backtracking earning cheers and claps from members of the audience. Elladan quickly dislodged his sword from the others and struck his side. Leston twisted to block, raising his sword and stepping to the side, letting Elladan's weight on his weapon drag it down. Elladan counted the drills down in his head. Off to the side, the three judges were taking notes trying to look neutral but unable to keep smiles off their faces.

Ten. Overhead. Backhand. Overhand. Lunge. Elladan staggered forward, nearly falling out of the barrier as Leston parried the blow and stepped to the side. It seemed as if Leston had the same idea. Elladan looked him in the eye. The message was clear. _You bend the rules; I bend the rules._ Elladan squared his shoulders and lunged again, lapsing into drill eleven. Very well, he thought, I will play along.

Twelve. Elladan lunged to the side and struck there, but Leston blocked and moved once more, sending Elladan and his weight careening forward. Elladan stopped himself just in time, lips pursing into a thin line.

"Elladan! Even your weight!" Elrohir called loudly, stating one of the many facts of sword fighting he had read from a book. Faron silenced him with a small glare. Elladan stepped back, rethinking his approach. His posture and weight were the problem. He was throwing himself at Leston, giving the slightly smaller elf a chance to push him out of the circle. He needed to stop flapping around like a baby bird.

He looked over the hill and saw his father looking right at him. Elrond nodded and smiled as if reading his thoughts and Elladan smiled. Then looking off where Glorfindel and the Rangers were sitting he saw despite how exhausted they were they could not sleep. He was making them proud, and that gave him the extra drive he needed to continue. He stepped forward with a thrust which Leston parried again and moved. Elladan anticipated it, jumping back and then forward again and stabbing for the other side. Leston swung awkwardly to block, not expecting the bold move. He wasn't fast enough and blocked the blade with his wrist. Elladan felt the force of wood on bone and froze, heart, leaping into his throat. Multiple elves gasped, and Leston staggered back, face twisting into a grimace. Elladan couldn't imagine how it must have felt. Faron stepped forward, but Leston brushed him off. He apparently wanted to finish. Elladan admired that. The blond elfling shook his wrist – previously injured – and schooled his expression into determination. Elladan hesitated, and Leston motioned him on.

"Come on Elladan. Don't take it easy." He stepped forward, motioning to go on. Faron must have figured if Leston could keep himself together, it must not have been that bad. So, biting his lip, Elladan agreed and moved on to thirteen. That one went rather quickly, most likely because the two were done fooling around. Elladan felt the beginnings of sweat as he reached nineteen, swinging his sword in an overhead arch. Leston blocked it in a whoosh of air and cringed, cheeks flaming red. Elladan could only imagine how bad it pained him. Leston took a second to breathe, and Elladan was impressed, almost scared but also relieved. Leston was performing everything rather nicely even with a damaged arm. And he knew it was selfish and rude, but he was almost glad the blond elf would have a disability during the competition. Elladan immediately felt ashamed. That was not the kind of thinking that merited praise or respect. And now that he thought about it, Leston might have to drop out, depending on how bad the injury was. The thought only made him feel guiltier.

"Only one more," he said to Leston, his tone almost apologetic. Leston nodded in an offhanded manner as if saying 'I know, you don't have to tell me' and stepped into a defense position once more.

Twenty. Overhand. Backhand. Overhead. Parry. Lunge and slash. Elladan completed the last one more gently than he thought he would and stepped back – a motion that was almost a stumble – Leston backed away also and shook his wrist once more, face twisting into an expression of pain once again. Surprisingly the injury hadn't started to swell. It did look rather bruised, however. A sign that it thankfully wasn't too bad. Off in the distance, he saw his parents and grandparents. They were smiling at him proud looks on their faces. He felt horrible about hurting Leston, but at the same time, he felt proud he had been able to hold out against him as long as he had. Faron entered the ring, and the crowd went silent as if holding their breath for the next event. Through the corner of his eye, Elladan saw Leston's mother running up to them. He briefly wondered if that was allowed. When he saw Leston again, the blond elf turned red with embarrassment.

"Naneth I am fine," he said in protest as she looked him over for injuries again.

"Ma'am, take a seat. I will see to your son and determine if he should sit out. He'll be okay," he said and placed a hand on the elleth's shoulder. "I'll make sure of it." The mother made eye contact with the captain before deciding to let him handle it. When she left – still looking uncertain – Leston looked more than relieved. Elladan flashed him a smile, and the blond elfling shrugged as if stating he couldn't help it. It was only a minute before Faron came to his conclusion.

"Leston... you can't spar. But you can participate in drilling." As he said, this Leston's face fell. Elladan felt a knot of guilt tie in his stomach. "I don't want you to strain your arm. So, sit out for now." Faron offered a small, understanding and comforting smile and let the child out of the ring. When Faron came back, he was holding his list and motioning for Elladan to step out of the ring for the next round. Doing so with his head bowed in thought, Elladan took his place next to his brother.

Faegon raised an eyebrow. "That ended quickly," he said as two more elflings lined up to fight.

Elladan tired but happy found a seat next to his brother to watch the rest of the sparring. He had won against Leston and therefore would move on but who would he spar with next. Eventually, it was down to the final battle. Elladan and Faegon had lost the other two spars, so that left Elrohir and Sarndir. Elrohir was one of the best sparrers but so was Sarndir. It was turning out to be a real match between the two, but in the end, Sarndir had been the best of the two. It didn't matter though, they had come in second with sparring, and they still had two more events to go.

When the points had been given it was as follows: Team one which consisted of Sarndir, Candir and Ronir had six points. Team four which consisted of Elladan, Elrohir and Faegon had five points. Team three which consisted of Leston, Radhron and Raithon had four points. And Team two which consisted of Ellavorn, Glindir and Barhador had two points.

When all the points had been awarded and announced for that event, they were given a five-minute break. All the parents went out to congratulate their children – all that was except for Faegon's. Faegon quietly slipped into a corner until the break was over. Who needed to be praised anyways? he thought to himself. After the break was over, Faron announced the second event: Drilling. They would win this one Faegon thought to himself.

* * *

Drilling wasn't what he expected. The task was harder. Elrohir had thought they would be tested one by one in an orderly manner or lined up and pointed to. That was not the case. He jumped from foot to foot, eyeing the person in front of him in anticipation. Out of all the things they could have done, a relay race was not what was most prominent in his mind. The rules were simple enough though. All teams lined up – in which case Faegon had fought for the lead. They were then told to complete all thirty drills going back and forth along strips of the training field. Whatever team did it the most accurately and the fastest won.

Elrohir knew the drills like the back of his hands. He just didn't know they would have to do it like this. Before he could think anymore, Faron's annoying bell sounded. The first competitors were off. Faegon launched forward – not something the younger twin would call safe – and slid into the first drill. He was allowed to complete at least two drills down and one drill back, though when Elrohir thought about it unless Faegon was exceptionally fast it would take longer as opposed to doing one down and one back. He frowned, realizing he should have communicated this to his teammates earlier. The only question is, would Faegon have listened? Faron was shouting at them now, his loud voice goading them on in the race against time. Faegon had completed two drills and was turning around, ahead of Leston by a few feet only. The blond elf was doing remarkably well, Elrohir thought.

"GO GO GO!" Faron shouted, a smile on his face.

The round was a close one, and each child had their strategies. Some were helping tremendously, and some were not. Elrohir decided he needed to tell this to Elladan. The younger turned around. "El?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your strategy?" Elrohir didn't bother to look back, too focused on waiting until Faegon got back to do anything else. He heard Faron shout things to the elfling's who messed up on their drills and had to start over.

Elladan thought for a moment. "Take my time and get as many in as possible. The ones who are trying to get as many in as possible and go quickly are messing up a lot," he whispered, looking around with identical eyes.

Elrohir nodded. "Faegon doesn't seem to be having that problem," Elrohir noted. If Elrohir could have seen Elladan, there would have been a scowl on the young elf's face.

"Yeah well, he'll mess up sooner or later. Just wait."

Faegon whisked past them, slapping Elrohir's hand as he did. Elrohir took in a breath and raised his sword. He performed them right out of his mind, moving his feet forward each time and picking up where Faegon had left off. He wasn't the fastest, Elrohir had to admit – he was too careful for that – but he knew he had remarkable precision and form. He had, after all, been practicing every single day without fail, whether it be in the garden with his mother or his room with Elladan.

"Hurry up Elrohir!" Faegon shouted, and Elrohir winced and nearly fell, staggering roughly back to his feet. The elfling turned clockwise and struck out to the side, bringing his sword in an upwards arch and then down. With the movement, he heard a shout of praise from... he wasn't sure – someone in the crowd. The noise made him grin, and before he knew it, he was at the cone. Elrohir turned to look back at an eager Elladan – his brother was smiling at him – and Elrohir fought not to give a bow – he didn't know why the impulse came along. Quickly he returned, though he only managed to get a single drill in. He crossed the line and slapped Elladan's hand, sending the other down the strip of grass. Faegon groaned. "COME ON! Hurry! We're losing! You're too slow!" Elrohir turned to glare at the elfling.

"We get extra points for form. And Elladan is going almost as fast as you." Elrohir began to wonder how Faegon had become so quick at the drills. He looked up to the judges and decided it was the tutoring with Erestor that had done it. The scholar was full of surprises. Elrohir quickly looked back to the competition, watching Elladan's movements carefully. He judged his brother to be on number nine. From the look of the other teams, they were doing rather well even if they weren't in first – Leston's team was in first. Radhron was flying through the course and getting in at least four drills per round. Faron was over by the lagging teams and was yelling encouragement or hilarious insults – compliments of Glorfindel.

"TEN!" Elladan shouted as he arrived back, slapping Faegon's hand and giving him the sword. Faegon didn't look very amused – almost sour – and merely rolled his eyes and took the wooden sword. Swiftly he took off and went to work. Elrohir waited patiently. Ten...? The competition would be a long one.

After a long and grueling event of drills, they received the results, and by sheer luck, Elladan's team won but only by a point. Right behind them in second place was Leston's team. Leston might not have been able to spar but by this event and mostly thanks to Lord Elrond's healing abilities, Leston was back in the game and ready to make up for lost time. And did he ever! They were now coming up to the final event, and Elrohir's team would have to come in first place if they were to win this competition. The last game was archery, and both Faegon and Elrohir knew this was Elladan's area. Sparring was Elrohir's, drilling Faegon's and Elladan had shown to be a master at the bow. They heard Faron announce break was over and for the teams to come to the front. It was now or never. This was the defining moment they had all been training for. This last event would make or break them.

* * *

It seemed archery was even worse this time. Elladan's hands were in agony, fingers red and raw from pulling a bow string. He winced. They hadn't done this much before why on the competition did Faron suddenly dump a whole load on them? He darted across their pile of junk and grabbed hold of a small wooden post, dragging it back into its designated collection with a grunt. Faegon passed him and snatched two coils of rope and carelessly dropped them in a pile. At least it wasn't like the practice day, and things stayed in their piles instead of moving.

"Come on!" Elladan shouted and kicked a ball into another pile. He looked around. Last object. His eyes widened. "Come on! Come on! Positions!" No matter how hard he tried, Elladan could not keep from looking over his shoulder at the other teams. They were barely ahead. Elrohir had already assembled his bow – how had he done that so fast? – and was standing at ready. Elladan and Faegon simultaneously dropped to the floor and grabbed their weapons, reaching into their quivers for arrows. When they were all ready to fire they consented. Elladan heard three solid _thunks_ , followed by other teams as they tried to catch up. Elladan looked at his arrow. The third ring from the middle, he cursed. Elrohir's had struck merely one ring off.

Stupid double tasking,Elladan thought sourly. The worst of all was the layout had changed last minute. Now they unstrung their bows and slung them over their shoulders, taking off with all speed of their runs to the next station with heavier junk to organize. Sandbags... Elladan rolled his eyes to heaven. Why were the Valar so cruel? He sighed. At least it was the last one.

It was the last one, and they were barely in first. Elladan grunted and watched as the other elflings came zooming up the hill. Faegon elbowed him. "Come on Elladan! We don't have the time for this," he growled and lifted a sandbag, toting it over to a random spot in the grass.

Rolling his eyes, Elladan sighed, leaning over and slinging a sandbag over his shoulders. He broke into a jog and ran towards the pile of sandbags. They had to organize them by color – at least that is what it looked like. Each one had large circles of different colors painted on them. Elrohir had naturally come to the same conclusion and was lugging two at a time to a separate corner. His arms screamed to rest, and sweat made its way down his chin, dripping off his face. His fingers were numb now; he didn't expect to feel them again, not with their redness or swelling.

Elladan threw his sack down around the same time Faegon came jogging back over. How was it everyone seemed more energized than him? How? Elladan promptly dismissed the fact he had stayed up rather late the night before practicing drills and picked up his feet, practically bouncing over to the sack pile and selecting a color at random. The sun made the cloth hot, and he had to be extra careful, and the moment he saw that sack had no pile yet, he walked away and made one. The temptation to sit down was overwhelming.

"Come on let's go!" Elrohir screamed, realizing they were falling behind. A strike of fear sent Elladan running.

"We've said that phrase too many times today!" he shouted back, unsure exactly why. Elrohir rolled his eyes. Elladan picked up the last sack, eagerness giving him strength and slung it over his shoulders. The weight caused him to wobble. Why was this one heavier than the others? Faegon and Elrohir had already strung their bows. They were waiting on him. Elladan pushed forward, feet pounding softly in the grass. And somehow, he fell. Elladan couldn't explain it. His foot fell to the ground – maybe it was uneven ground – and he plummeted backward, sack tumbling away. He was in a daze. Had he hit his head?

"Elladan!" Elrohir screamed and dropped his bow.

Elladan heard footsteps and his brother –and Faegon? – were beside him. The brown-haired elfling grabbed the sack, he noticed from the corner of his eye and slung it into its pile. He was back within seconds. Elladan stood to his feet. And from there it was the fastest race he had ever been in. Leston's team had strung their bows and were pulling back.

Overwhelming fear and adrenaline gave him speed – it was at that moment Elladan realized how fast he could string a bow and nock an arrow – and he pulled the string back to his cheek. They fired. Six arrows sailed into the air. It was slow, agonizing. The projectiles seemed to stay airborne for hours. It seemed they would never fall. That was until he heard a chorus of _thumps_. Elladan closed his eyes. He dared not look. Tiredness swamping him he fell to his knees. There was no way they won, Leston's team had been faster. And that was when Elrohir started cheering.

Elladan couldn't believe it. They had won! If he had not seen Faegon and his brother cheering or his parents running to hug them he would not have believed it. Too happy to feel how tired he was he began jumping up and down and ran to the open arms of his parents. "We did it! We won!"

Elrond laughed. "Yes ion-nín, you did! I am so proud of you." He hugged him even tighter. Next, to him, his mother was embracing his brother.

After all the cheering died down, Faron and Glorfindel – who by now had decided to join in – called all the teams over so that they could hand out the trophies. "Before we hand out the awards we want first to say how proud we are at all of you for the hard work and perfect teamwork you all displayed this day. I know I speak for Faron as well when I say we are aware one day all of you will make fine warriors. Now Faron, would you care to do the honors of announcing the results?"

Faron smiled, and when he had received the points from the judges, he started calling out the results. "In fourth place, we have Team number one with ten points." When said group had stepped forward, they were each given small medals. When they had stood to the side, Faron announced the next team. "In third place with eleven points is Team two. In second place with fourteen points is Team three. And in first place with seventeen points is team four."

After all the groups had received their medals, Faron cleared his throat. "Now, unbeknownst to you all, Glorfindel and I had a secret prize for the winning team." All four teams began buzzing with excitement. What surprise did Faron and Glorfindel have? Looking around they could tell even the judges were unaware of this prize. When Faron had quieted the people down, he continued. "Now as you are all aware, we have been training you to become warriors and to be sent out on patrols. So, as a special treat, we decided for the first time, to award the winning team the opportunity to accompany Glorfindel, myself and eight other veteran elves on a small patrol on the borders of Imladris. And as Elladan's team won this competition, you three will be going on your first patrol in a few weeks' time."

Elladan could not believe his ears. He was going to be going on a patrol?! Scarcely able to hold his excitement he threw his arms around his brother who was also trying to contain himself. Glorfindel laughed, and when the excitement of the news wore down, he clapped his hands. "Now, I don't know about all of you, but the events of today have made me hungry. So why don't we all go and enjoy the rest of the day with one another and enjoy some glorious food and drink?"

At the words food and drink the children didn't even wait to be dismissed for before Glorfindel could excuse them, they had run off towards the designated areas and began to help themselves to something to eat and drink. Glorfindel chuckled. He couldn't blame them for he knew exactly how they felt.


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by myself. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

 **Disclaimer:** The book **Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal** is written by Joel Salatin. We hope you enjoy

* * *

The feasting area was full of merry laughter and conversations. All around him Faron surveyed the festivities following the midterm competition. It had been a very long, grueling event, but it had all been worth every blood, sweat, and tear. As he continued to look around him, his eyes fell on the winning team: Elladan, Elrohir and Faegon and his lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. Even though the three were mortal enemies, they were at this very moment getting along. No, they were not laughing and talking with each other, but they were civil with one another, and he had to admit it as would Glorfindel, they had worked very well as a team.

Feeling even more satisfied the day was going to end well, he sighed happily to himself and went to eat at an empty spot next to Glorfindel who was busy stuffing his mouth full of casserole. "Ah, _mellon_ , I see you are enjoying your meal?" Faron laughed as he took his seat next to him.

Glorfindel snorted before washing the food down with some lemonade. "You try being gone for as long as I was with nothing but dry bread and warm water and then tell me you could hold back."

Faron shook his head and clapped his golden-haired friend on the back. "Aye, you are right. I probably could not resist." Glorfindel chuckled, and the two sat back and relished the rest of the food.

Meanwhile, at another spot were Elladan, Elrohir, and his family. The twins were both chattering away about the competition while two nearly overwhelmed, but proud parents tried almost in vain to take in every word that was being spilled by their energetic sons. If they had not of raised these two, their heads would have exploded by now. "Yes, I saw every move _ion-nín_. I am so proud of you two as is your naneth and grandparents," Elrond said as he smiled at his beaming son. Indeed, he could not have been prouder of his children if he tried. He knew these two would grow up to be great warriors someday.

"Where do you think we will go on patrol ada?" Elrohir asked between mouthfuls of a turkey sandwich. "Do you believe that we will see any action?"

Celebrían looked at her husband with a partially concerned look on her face. She had never really thought about that even when she had supported Faron earlier. Elrond smiled softly. "Nay, Elrohir. Faron has promised your nana and me; you would be safe and still close to home. I think he said you would go to the Last Bridge. That is close to home, but far enough you will get some practice in." He saw his sons faces fall slightly. "Trust me, my sons; you two will see action soon enough when you are older. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you still can. Violence is never glorious to behold." The twins nodded, and soon all disappointed looks disappeared, and they were back to laughing.

* * *

Later that night when all the excitement had died down, and everyone had either left or were retiring for the evening, Glorfindel and Faron were busy preparing for next week's patrol. While generally, they would not need to get ready so far in advance, this time was different for they would have three elflings in their care. Neither of them wanted to be unprepared just in case something unexpected were to happen.

Already they had made sure they had enough food and water to last, weapons were sorted and put away, and at the moment Faron was going over a list of the elves which would be going with them on that particular shift. Elrond had already volunteered him and Erestor to take over the job as teachers until they returned. After all, with Faegon and the other two gone, it would more than likely be a quiet, uneventful week.

Glorfindel was busy looking over several maps of the area they would be going to. While it was true the Last Bridge was relatively close to Imladris, and nothing bad had happened in a long time, he wanted to be certain all areas surrounding them were mapped out and checked to make certain that no yrch, wargs or even raiders would make an unannounced visit while Elladan, Elrohir, and Faegon were with them. "Are you sure we are making the right choice taking them out this soon? I know we wanted to give them some exposure, but are they ready?" Glorfindel knew deep inside he was probably overreacting, but when you have lived as long as him and had witnessed the horrors that went along with being a warrior, it was enough to make anyone paranoid when it came to children and growing warriors at that.

Faron sighed in slight annoyance; this was the third time that night he had asked that same question. "Glorfindel, _mellon_. Stop worrying yourself. We have been over this several times. We are only going to be gone a week, and the ellyn will be safe. It is not like we are going up into the Misty Mountains or even that far outside of the borders. If anything happens, we will be well equipped to get them to safety."

Glorfindel nodded. He knew Faron was right. Besides that, Elrond would not have allowed them to take the children if he thought there was even the slightest chance of something going wrong. Neither would Celebrían for that matter. No, the only real danger would not involve the elflings. It would be the adults being stuck with three disgruntled ellyn who were known to fight over every little thing they could find. Let's face it, he thought to himself, being alone with Faegon and Elladan for one day is enough to drive even the Valar insane, but seven!? Maybe it isn't them I should be worried about.

Faron laughed silently knowing full well what his friend was thinking and went back to work.

* * *

Celebrían had just finished tucking the twins into bed and kissed them good night. The day had just ended, and she was eager to retire for the evening. Elladan and Elrohir, on the other hand, were still far too wound up to settle down for the night so Elrond offered to stay and read them a story in hopes it would relax them.

Elrond walked over to the oak bookshelf which held many books, most of which were either gifts or old antiques, mostly given to them by Lord Celeborn when he tired of his usual reading habits. "What story would you like me to read to you tonight? Make it a short one for it is well past your bedtime." Elrond then went down the list of books naming them off one by one. "We have _Cats of the East, Warriors of Sorrow, Thieves of the Sea, History of the Stars, Going to the West, Warriors with Immortality, The Dwarven Piglets, The Habits and Mannerisms of Dwarven Behavior and Assassins and Butchers."_ Elrond's eyes just about popped out of his head when he saw that book in with the rest.

"That one!" the twins both eagerly chimed together.

Elrond quickly took the book off the shelf and stuffed it in his robe. "Where did you ever get this book?"

Elrohir shrugged. "Glorfindel gave it to us. He said it was one of his most favorite books."

"Well, you can pick out a different book. I will not have my sons filling their head with such nonsense." The twins pouted but decided on a different book in the end. As Elrond picked the book up another book which he had failed to see before fell at his feet. Picking it up before the twins noticed his face fell again when he saw the title and author. _Everything I Want To Do Is Illegal by Glorfindel._

Turning his head to make sure his sons were not looking, he stuffed the book in with the other and made a mental note to have a little chat later on about indoctrinating his children with such gobbledygook. Turning around and taking a seat in the overstuffed chair he opened the book and began to read. "Ada?"

Stopping, he looked up at Elrohir. "Yes, my son?"

"Elladan and I were wondering if we could hold our swords just this once."

Smiling, he set the book down and got up to retrieve the swords. "I think you two earned the right to do more than just hold them this time. I believe that you may sleep with them this once." Chuckling to himself at seeing his sons faces light up he handed them to the dark-haired elflings and sat back down and began to read. It didn't take long until the two were snoring softly in elven bliss and Elrond quietly got up and kissed them on the forehead before going off to bed himself. Turning around one last time to look at his sons he whispered, " _Oltho vae ne fuin hen, ion-nín_."

* * *

 **Oltho** **vae ne fuin hen** – May you dream well tonight

 **Ion-nín** – my son (s)


	19. Author Note 2

I am so sorry that his story is taking so long to update. I have been trying to get a hold of my co-author for a while now, and I am not sure what is going on, but she is not responding. Rest assured, this story is not going anywhere and I will make sure it is finished one way or another. We both love this story and its readers!

Lin


	20. Chapter 18

**A/N** This story is a story that is being co-authored by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth and myself. We are each taking turns writing a chapter. This chapter was written by Sonicscrewdriversinmiddleearth. We both wish to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.

* * *

Celebrían – who was dressed for the day in one of her simpler gowns – strode across the twins' room. She held two bags that were already packed and arranged, even if it was rather poorly done, and dropped them on the bed. Then the elleth unpacked them.

"Nana!" Elladan called in a panic. He had been standing patiently in front of a dark mirror, letting Elrohir practice his warrior braids for the trip. Now he jumped and pushed past his younger twin, skidding to a halt in front of her. Celebrían looked at them both, eyeing Elrohir as he discreetly followed his brother. It was still dark, so the room was lit by candles, and a warm fire burned gently in the hearth. There was probably no need for it since it wasn't very cold.

Outside, the deep, orange tendrils of sunlight just managed to touch the sky.

"Well, I can't send the two of you away without an organized pack," she said, neatly refolding wrinkled tunics, and then rolling them into smaller bundles. They slipped into the bottom of the leather bag easily, fitting snugly. Then she worked on other clothing items.

Elladan opened his mouth to say something, before realizing there was no argument to make. Glorfindel or Faron would have caught them on it anyways. Better it be their mother scolding them than two very stern teachers. On another note, Glorfindel would spend twenty minutes teaching them to fold things, while their mother would simply do it herself. She always liked to get things done properly, and if that meant doing it alone, she would.

He sighed, turning back to the mirror.

Elrohir began braiding his hair. The skill he had learned from practicing resulted in some nice plaits. Elladan thought about asking Elrohir to do his for him and then decided against it. He needed practice anyways, so his fingers went to work.

At first, he had doubts about them. They were uneven and inconsistent; he only let them be because his mother said nothing. And if Celebrían said nothing, it usually meant she hadn't noticed, or it was done well. He decided on the first.

After a moment, Elrond entered. Their father carried two saddle packs, filled with supplies and bedrolls arranged the night before. He set them down on Elladan's bed, next to their now neatly organized bags, and then straightened, sighing and smiled at them. Elladan knew that smile. That expression made both the twins grin.

"I am going to miss you both," Elrond said, expression suddenly serious. He knelt to their level and beckoned them over. The twins grew solemn, padding around to either side. Gracefully, Celebrían sat, watching as the two edged closer. "Remember to listen to Glorfindel and Faron. This is not a game, like your other exercises. Those two will keep you safe, but don't forget to listen and obey. You must be serious about this. In any real situation when you are out patrolling with your men, something can, and usually will go wrong, no matter the scale. Always be prepared."

Celebrían wrapped an arm around Elrond's shoulders. "And remember your promise, little ones," she added with a smile.

"This is, in fact, a week trip with Faegon. Who knows what will happen," Elrond rolled his eyes to the ceiling. In truth, Elladan thought it would go well – he hoped. He thought they had been doing better this week. They hadn't come to blows, and they hadn't really, _truly_ fought. Yet. Elladan watched them with young, calculating eyes, and nodded thoughtfully. "Do you think you are prepared?"

"Yes, ada."

"Nana made sure of that," Elrohir chirped, gesturing to the packs. Elrond crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"Well then, I think we are due down at the stable in a half hour. That leaves us very little time to eat."

"And the cook made something special for this occasion," Celebrían said, picking up her long skirt. Elladan and Elrohir let out whoops, scrambling to gather their things. Elrond strode towards the bookshelf, Elladan noticed.

He hoped he remembered everything, and went over the list in his head, pausing to answer questions he hadn't heard, and to let his mother look him over. She seemed more nervous than everyone in the room combined.

Elrohir, having finished already, packs piled high in his hands, was already at the door with their parents.

Elladan threw a look towards his bed, where his sword lay sheathed and safe. He felt a worm of unease. There would be a day when he could use that sword. That day couldn't come soon enough; he thought as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Faegon poked at his breakfast with a silver spoon. It was one of the newer things his father had brought home that week.

He stared at the food, stirring and smashing the bread and butter till it was a paste. He wasn't very hungry and turned away fresh fruit, hot tea, and even the pastries someone had brought them the day before.

He looked out the window, craning his head towards the sun. It was nearly dawn; he'd have a half hour to get to the stables. The walk would be a good twenty minutes, which meant he should probably start off soon.

Faegon sighed pushing his plate away and scooted the chair back. He jumped out of it, hitting the floor with a quiet thump.

The house was dark and silent as usual, except the parlor had no fire in the hearth, and the house was unusually cold. And lonely. Faegon hadn't heard his father get up, but when he had awoken to an empty house, he had assumed his father had gone off to work.

So, that left him to prepare on his own. Rations weren't required – Glorfindel would take care of that – and Faron would provide gear for the horses. Clothes and other such things, however, were the child's responsibility. So, he packed himself for a week and filled his saddle bag with other things on the list, such as two water skins, a bedroll, blankets, and a dagger.

Then Faegon braided his hair, cleaned up an attempted breakfast, and headed out the door, packs in tow. Maybe, just this once, his father would come see him off. He wished he would, even if, in truth, Faegon didn't want him there. He had seemed proud enough when Faegon had told him their team had won, and a patrol with senior elves was a large step in training. Maybe he would come, and save Faegon the awkward humiliation of going by himself.

The elfling snorted. What was he thinking? That would never happen.

* * *

Glorfindel pulled the synch on Elladan's saddle, straightened, securing other loose ends, or bridle straps in place. Generally, like with any of the other horse's, a headstall would suffice. But Glorfindel had told them a nose band was mandatory. On such a large expedition, it would come in handy if they needed more contact with the horse.

And the last thing Glorfindel wanted, was for one of the elflings to be carried off by a terrified pony. So, headbands and nosebands were needed.

The pony eyed the golden-haired elf and lowered his head, sniffing the remnants of his breakfast in a wooden bucket. Elrohir watched with the kind of curiosity some reserved for a sparring match.

"Why does he eat while getting dressed?" Elrohir asked, shuffling along Glorfindel's side.

The blond elf laughed. "Because it keeps him busy while I tack him up; especially when tightening the girth. He's not very fond of that step. If I didn't give him something to do, he would hold his breath and make it impossible to get anything done," he explained, moving to the other side of the horse. If that were correct, Glorfindel would wait to finish until they set off, which was supposed to be comfortable for the pony, and more pleasant for its rider.

Elrohir laughed, stroking the pony on its soft velvet nose. It always amazed him how with all those short little hairs, this large beast nose was softer than anything he had ever touched.

"Nana would scold us if she found us eating breakfast while dressing," he told the taller elf, smaller hands still petting the horse's muzzle.

"Indeed, she would. You are not a horse, and have different customs." Glorfindel patted the animal on the shoulder and moved to Faegon's pony. It was the elfling's pony, which his father had bought years before. He was a dark brown with one white stocking and a black mane and tail. A beautiful animal. As Glorfindel began working, Elrohir turned around, observing the healthfully crowded barn.

There were different horses out of their stalls, being tacked up or waiting outside; guards checking their armor and weapons, and bystanders watching with interest. Among those were their grandparents, parents, Erestor, and a few elflings from training. Radhron and Raithon stood with Leston, apart from the others, conversing quietly. Elrohir felt a warmth of pride wash through him. All these people coming to see them off? He grinned.

"Faron!" Glorfindel called across the barn. Faron looked up from checking his horse's feet and waved from down the aisle. "Where did Asfaloth go?"

The dark-haired elf looked around, then shrugged, continuing to fit his horse's headstall. The leather piece was hardly simple. Soft, black leather lying snugly across the animal's cheek bones, fastening near the ears with intricately ornamented silver leaf-shaped clasps.

While Glorfindel occasionally attached bells to both his browband and headpiece – Asfaloth wandered when he wished – Faron had silver studs lining the headpiece and browband, embedded with small white stones. In any case, it was one of the most beautiful headstalls Elrohir had seen. It even had elegant patterns embroidered in white thread along the cheek – piece. "I've no idea. Wasn't he over with you?"

"Yes, but I can't find him! Are you sure you didn't see him?"

Faron took another look around, laughing, and shook his head. "No, Glorfindel! I did not! You should try tethering him next time! Headstalls are very useful for your impish horse!"

Glorfindel, running a hand over his face, sighed. "Very well, I will deal with that later. And Faron!"

The elf straightened again, gently letting his horse's leg down. "Yes?"

"Go to the storage room and get me a new blanket and some extra brushes, and maybe one or two medical kits! It never hurts to have extra!"

Elrohir watched in puzzlement as Faron vanished into the tack room. A moment later, he came out with the requested supplies and dropped them on a bale of hay. Glorfindel muttered his thanks, and checked Faegon's pack, counting on his fingers. "We are going to set out ten minutes late..."

"Is that a bad thing?" Elrohir asked, glancing to where Elladan and Faegon were seated. They were noticeably far from each other, backs to the other on a stack of straw. Elrohir had found he was too excited to sit still. He had to move, and see how things worked.

"Well, it only means when we make camp, we'll have ten minutes less to cook. The soldiers know that." He gestured to the eight warriors that would be coming with them. "They're moving fast, Elrohir. Never underestimate a seasoned warriors value of food at the end of a long march."

"So, we better be on our way then... Do you want me to go get the others?"

Of course, the warriors had started to mount, after checking things off mentally, which confused him. Why didn't they bring a list, instead of trying to remember? He had seen several warriors mouthing words and looking over their things, and then walking up to Glorfindel or Faron and reporting. It just seemed rather hard.

Of course, seeing the others begin to mount, Elladan and Faegon came over to the ponies.

Glorfindel now took the time to run outside, assumedly to search for his horse. A moment later, when Elrond and Celebrían helped their sons mount, Glorfindel came trotting into the stable. He swung down from the saddleless stallion.

Faron had gone without a saddle too, and they both carried their supplies on their backs. Elrohir guessed they traveled lighter than they advised. However, the elves who were bringing more, or those who were assigned to specific things like wood or extra blankets, had a pack pony, or a saddle. Looking over at his ride, Elrohir vaguely wished he could ride without a saddle too. It would feel much more natural.

Across the aisle, Faegon easily mounted by himself, and held his head high, watching the world as if it were small and weak. Typical. How early did the mood swings start, or was he born that way? Was that why Elladan had been so quiet?

"I am so proud of you both," Celebrían said, looking them over like any good mother would. She even checked their girth straps, tightening them the rest of the way, sparing Glorfindel the work. The golden-haired elf shrugged, moving to help Faegon instead, and leaving Elrond and Celebrían to see them off. The twins grinned, leaning down to let their parents give them kisses, and in Elrond's case, a loving ruffle of the hair.

"Remember to be safe, and listen to Glorfindel and Faron," she added, looking around. "Oh, and have fun."

Elrond grinned. "And no matter what Glorfindel tells you at the fire about me, don't believe a word."

The Lord and Lady stepped back as Glorfindel called to set off. It was quieter and organized then Elrohir had been imagining, and as they lined up and began to move, people called their goodbyes.

And then quickly, Radhron and Raithon shot after them, coming up beside the twins' ponies, and listed off requests.

Elrohir also noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Elrond had approached Glorfindel. They whispered. Then Glorfindel laughed, gesturing to a book Elrond held, and cheekily pushed Asfaloth into a canter.

"And remember to tell the whole class everything!" Raithon called. They stopped at the entrance to the stable, waving madly. "We don't want to miss a single detail!"

Beside him, Elladan shouted something back, and then they were out of sight.

* * *

Elladan watched the sunrise, coming above the trees in a yellow fireball. They were four hours in, and the sun was already up. In that time, he had learned two things: Faegon could surprisingly be quiet when he wanted to, and riding horses for hours was boring.

The only remotely interesting thing was listening to the older elves talk. Of course, he found himself doing other things too. Like counting how many strides it took his pony to go twenty feet, or how many times Glorfindel stopped to throw something at Faron, riding two spaces behind them, or even going over his supplies.

On the fifth hour, when an elf on their right was telling a particularly dull story, Glorfindel stopped the group and dismounted.

Elladan thought maybe something exciting would happen, but they were letting their horses rest instead. At that point, he was practically begging for someone to talk to them. Glorfindel and Faron had attempted conversation a few times but had always gone off to check others from the group, or to make sure rotation went smoothly. Sometimes they even went scouting.

Scouting. That was the magic word. Six hours in, when Elladan thought he was going to die, or whither from the glares of Faegon, Glorfindel rode up beside them. "Now that you've experienced... patrolling in its most mundane element, how about we set up for lunch?"

Elladan, Elrohir, and Faegon perked up immediately. "How do we do that?" Faegon asked, sitting straighter in the saddle.

"Well, for starters, we scout ahead. Then when the scouts have found a good place to stop, we can set up camp." Glorfindel smiled and dismounted, leaving Asfaloth to walk riderless beside them. He came back with Faron and another elf.

"And another thing you must learn is even though we are stopping for lunch, it doesn't mean we settle in. A patrol camp must always be ready to put away if something goes wrong. That applies to sleeping too. Which means everything should be packed before going to sleep, and your bedroll, blanket and most importantly your weapon, should be the only things within immediate reach."

The three nodded thoughtfully. Elladan, more aware now, realized he had never ridden this much. He shifted in the saddle, fatigued. All he wanted to do was lay down and nurse his sore muscles. But they wouldn't have time. Indeed, it would be a short rest, lunch, and then they would be on the road again.

Finally, Faron gestured for them to follow him, and they set off at a canter, quickly putting distance between them and the group.

"So why exactly are we scouting ahead, when we could just stay with the group, and look for a place while we ride?" Faegon asked, moving his horse towards Faron's, which was quite a feat, considering how short his pony's strides were.

"Because in any normal patrol, there could be danger, and if the scout sees any, he or she can get away faster than a group, and warn the main caravan. In which case, we would prepare for battle. However, this is probably one of the safest areas in Rivendell, and I would not have taken you scouting if I didn't think it was safe," Faron explained, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. Faegon's face twisted into something akin to confusion.

"Well, that's stupid. If you know it's safe, what's the point of sending scouts?" The elfling rolled his eyes, scoffing.

Faron considered the question, trying to determine whether Faegon was dumb, or if he was trying to get on their nerves. "Well, the practice of course."

"How can we practice if there's nothing there? How do we train our eyes to see something if it's not there?"

Faron raised an eyebrow, turning in his saddle to look at Faegon. "We're not looking for danger, but I suppose we could use our imaginations," he said dryly.

Faegon rolled his eyes. "You mean an imagination you don't have?"

"He means the imagination you don't use, which would explain why this conversation became so terribly dull," Elladan commented, reining his horse to the left, creating space between them. Faron looked sharply at Elladan, quieting the elfling.

"The point is," Faron continued conversationally, "that we would be looking at the trees and our surroundings for anything unusual. Like prints in the ground that are human or horse. It would do well to know you're near others, or that there may be threats in the area. If you know people are close; you can be on watch. Being alert to others could save your life."

The three nodded, Faegon's attempt at an argument forgotten. Finally, after watching their surroundings, Elrohir notifying Faron of a few animal tracks, Faegon spoke his thoughts allowed.

"Can we still use our imaginations? This is boring."

Faron grinned. "Very well, as long as you have one."

When they got back to the group, it was another long ride. Elladan and Elrohir found themselves talking more often, and even a slightly put off Faegon commented. Elrohir said it was because the other elfling – though irritating – would supply some entertainment. Then, when the sun was setting, they arrived.

Elladan gaped. The sun, an enormous fireball hung low in the sky, was nestled right behind the arch of the bridge. It was then Elladan was sure Glorfindel and Faron had brought them this way on purpose. The orange, burnt light reflected off the dark water of the stream, glowing in thick, radiant beams, glaring off the guards' armor. All around, the atmosphere shimmered, as if the light itself had turned red, and they were living under it. Someone on the edge of the bridge – likely a scout – waved them over, calling a greeting. Glorfindel called something back, and they approached slowly. He felt so official when they stopped in front of the other group, and exchanged pleasantries.

He had never seen something grander, a feeling bubbling in his stomach that made him giddy so even when he and Elrohir were assigned to sleep in the same area as Faegon; he found he wasn't even upset.


	21. AN Story Update

My co-author and I are so sorry; it is taking so long for us to update this. She is super busy with school, and both of us have hit a writing slump. We both, however, want to know if you wish to see this story finished or should it be scrapped? That is if anyone is still reading this. Please let us know; your opinion means a lot to the both of us.

Sonic and Lin


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